LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


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Class 


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BENJAMIN  F.  MASON. 


THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY 

AND 

THROUGH  WAR 
TO  PEACE 


BY 

BENJAMIN  F.  MASON 


BROADWAY    PUBLISHING    CO. 

835  Broadway,  New  York 

BRANCH  OFFICES:     CHICAGO.    WASHINGTON.    BALTIMORE. 
ATLANTA.  NORFOLK.  FLORENCE.  ALA. 


(& 

Copyright,  1910, 

By 
BENJ.  F.  MASON 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 
I. 
II. 
III. 

IV. 

The  Rescue  from  the  River  . 
The  Haunted  House    . 
The  Village  Blacksmith  Shop 
A     Visit     to     the     Haunted 
House        

PAGE 
9 

24 

V. 
VI. 
VII. 
VIII. 
IX. 
X. 
XI. 

The  Chance  Meeting   .     .     . 
Love  and  Science    .... 
The  Chemical  Laboratory    . 
Gleaton's  Visit  to  the  Ghost 
The  Village  Vandals    .     .     . 
The  Vandal  Club    .... 
The    Vandals     

30 
40 

49 
61 

69 

75 
82 

XII. 
XIII. 

The  Haunted  Graveyard 
Spiritualism    

88 
oc 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

The  Devil's  Casket,  and  the 
Awakening  of  the  Ancient 
Egyptian    Victim    of    Sus- 
pended Animation    .     .     . 
The  Estrangement 
The  Farewell     

s  J 

103 
III 
I  IQ 

XVII. 

XVIII. 
XIX. 

The    Last    Meeting    of    the 
Vandal  Club   
The  Last  of  the  Vandal  Club 
The  Exposure  of  the  Village 
Mystery     

•  •  y 

127 
133 

n8 

3 

*  j" 

4  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XX.     The     Exposure     Finished — 

Kelly's  Speech     ....  146 
XXL     Bertha's  Visit  to  the  Haunt- 
ed House 157 

XXII.     The  Secrets  of  the  Haunted 

Chamber 167 

XXIII.  Sad  Partings 176 

XXIV.  Bertha's  Guardian       ...  184 
XXV.     Bertha's  Captivity  .     .     .     .  191 

XXVI.     A  Stormy  Interview    .     .     .  201 

XXVII.     The  Final  Struggle      .     .     .  210 
XXVIII.     The  Battle  of  Blue  Run,  or 

Manassas        220 

XXIX.     The  Retreat  from  the  Battle 

Field  of  Manassas   .     .     .  229 

XXX.     The  Soldier's  Last  Watch     .  238 

XXXI.     The  Old  Enemy  Again    .     .  245 

XXXII.     A  Nemesis  on  His  Track     .  254 

XXXIII.  Just  in  the  Nick  of  Time     .  263 

XXXIV.  The  Battle  of  Chancellorsville  275 
XXXV.     At  Rest  at  Last     .     .     .     .  285 

XXXVI.     The  Battle  of  Gettysburg     .  300 
XXXVII.     The  Close  of  the  Battle  of 

Gettysburg 309 

XXXVIII.     The  Struggle  with  Death     .  319 

XXXIX.     At  Rest  in  Heaven     .     .     .  332 

XL.     Nearing  the  End     ....  336 

XLI.     The  Dawn  of  Peace     ...  344 

XLII.     The  Last  Review  of  the  Army 

of    the     Republic     .     .     .  361 

XLIII.     Sad  and  Sweet  Memories     .  368 
XLIV.     The   Vandal   Congress  Once 

More 378 


CONTENTS  5 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XLV.     The  Vandal  Congress,  Con- 
tinued      389 

XLVI.     Home  Again  in  St.  Arlyle     .  400 

XLVII.     Under  the  Light  of  Peace     .  411 


PART  I. 
THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY. 


THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  RESCUE  FROM  THE  RIVER. 

Adieu,  the  city's  ceaseless  hum, 

The  haunts  of  sensual  life,  adieu! 
Green  fields  and  silent  glens!  we  come 

To  spend  this  bright  spring  day  with  you. — Aldrich. 

It  was  a  soft  balmy  afternoon  in  May.  The 
sun  shone  brightly  on  hill  and  vale,  and  glittered 
gayly  on  the  clear  waters  of  the  river  that  ran 
through  the  village  of  St.  Arlyle,  fringed  on  each 
side  by  rows  of  trees  dressed  in  their  brightest 
green,  forming  a  pretty  picture. 

Just  beneath  the  shadow  of  a  large  oak  stood 
the  bridge  spanning  the  river,  a  spot  where  the 
idle  rover  leaning  upon  the  railing  could  gaze  into 
the  clear  waters  of  the  stream. 

A  short  distance  below  the  bridge  a  yoiing  man 
about  five  and  twenty  was  standing  on  a  broad 
rock,  beneath  the  shadow  of  a  willow,  fishing. 
He  was  tall  and  straight,  with  a  well-formed 
figure.  A  small,  arched  foot  was  planted  firmly 
on  the  rock.  He  was  dressed  in  gray,  with  the 
exception  of  a  double-breasted,  black  velvet  vest, 


io     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

across  which  glittered  a  heavy  gold  chain.  His 
hat  was  lying  carelessly  on  the  rock  at  his  feet, 
and  his  brown,  curly  hair  was  pushed  back,  ex- 
cept several  ringlets  that  would  mischievously 
curl  down  upon  a  strong,  white  forehead,  beneath 
which  shone  his  clear  hazel  eyes.  He  had  a  well 
formed  nose,  a  small  mouth,  well  cut  lips 
shadowed  by  a  dark-brown  mustache,  plump, 
smooth  cheeks,  and  a,  dimpled  chin.  In  short, 
a  handsome,  boyish  face,  that  one  would  admire 
and  be  willing  to  trust. 

All  this  was  taken  in  at  a  glance  by  the  young 
lady  crossing  the  bridge,  even  to  the  dimple  in  his 
chin. 

His  head  was  bent  gazing  into  the  water  be- 
neath, and  he  did  not  notice  the  mounted  beauty, 
till  he  heard  the  crash  of  the  bridge  railing,  and 
saw  horse  and  rider  in  the  river.  He  threw  off 
his  coat  and  vest  and  running  a  short  distance 
along  the  bank,  sprang  into  the  stream,  and  swam 
to  the  young  lady's  rescue.  After  a  short  struggle 
he  placed  her  on  terra  firma  again. 

She  had  not  lost  consciousness  even  for  a 
moment,  but  not  a  word  passed  between  them 
till  they  stood  safe  on  the  bank,  when  she  ex- 
claimed : 

"Oh!  it  was  a  fearful  struggle!  I  certainly 
should  have  drowned  had  you  not  rescued  me !" 

At  this  moment  a  boy  brought  back  the  truant 
horse,  which  had  been  easily  caught,  having  swam 
ashore  and  cantered  down  a  neighboring  lane. 

Giving  a  coin  to  the  boy,  who  ran  away  in  great 
glee,  the  young  man  said: 

"Now,  my  lady,  mount  your  horse  and  ride 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        n 


Will 

,».,, 

laid, 


Home,  and  change  your  wet  clothing.     You  will 
catch  a  severe  cold  if  you  don't.     Come!  moun 
my  lady,"  said  he,  impatiently. 

She  smiled  at  his  tone  of  authority,  and  sai 
laughingly: 

"I'm  not  used  to  being  ordered,  Sir.'* 

"Physicians  sometimes  order,"  he  replied. 

"Old  ones  do,  but  I  thought  you  were  a  fisher- 
man," she  said  archly. 

"Away!  if  you  do  not  wish  to  catch  cold,"  he 
said  smilingly,  as  he  turned  on  his  heel.  But 
he  wheeled  again,  and,  looking  after  her,  mut- 
tered: 

"She's  a  fine  rider,  and  a  perfect  beauty.  I 
wonder  who  she  can  be." 

With  this  remark  he  picked  up  his  coat,  vest 
and  hat  and  disappeared  among  the  willows. 

She  had  ridden  a  short  distance  at  a  rapid 
pace  when  she  remembered  that  she  had  not 
thanked  her  rescuer.  She  suddenly  pulled  up  her 
horse,  and  turning  around  looked  for  him,  but 
he  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Then  she  pushed 
rapidly  onward,  as  she  brushed  the  long  wet 
golden  curls  from  her  rosy  cheeks,  and  taking  the 
jaunty  velvet  hat  from  her  head,  with  its  long 
drooping  scarlet  feather,  wet  and  limp,  she  mut- 
tered, laughingly: 

"Poor  abused  feather,  and  wet  hat!  Didn't 
you  get  a  ducking?  And  didn't  /  get  one  too! 

"But  I  wonder,  what  his  name  is?  He  said  he 
was  a  physician,  I  know  that  much.  But,  then, 
never  mind!  I'll  hear  all  about  him  to-morrow. 
For  of  course  he'll  be  a  hero,  and  all  that.  But, 
then,  he's  a  good  looking  young  fellow." 


12     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Thus  her  thoughts  wandered  on,  as  she  rode 
along,  forming  a  pretty  picture,  dressed  in  a 
bright  blue  riding  habit,  trimmed  with  white  fur, 
thrown  open  at  the  neck  showing  a  sailor's  col- 
lar, and  exposing  the  plump  white  throat  and 
bosom.  Upon  the  latter  lay  a  golden  locket  sus- 
pended by  a  black  ribbon,  which  formed  a  dark 
circle  around  the  smooth,  white  neck.  Her  damp 
golden  curls  floating  in  the  gentle  breeze,  sur- 
mounted by  the  jaunty  hat,  with  its  drooping, 
scarlet  feather,  so  becoming  to  the  regal  little 
head  with  its  clear  white  brow;  lustrous  black 
eyes,  with  long  drooping  lashes ;  a  dainty  straight 
nose ;  a  little,  pouting  mouth,  framed  by  the  ripest 
red  lips;  a  well-formed  chin,  rosy  and  plump 
cheeks,  that  dimpled  whenever  the  little  mouth 
opened.  It  was  a  rare,  sweet  face,  but  with  a 
dash  of  wild  waywardness  in  it. 

She  was  in  her  seventeenth  year,  the  daughter 
of  Captain  Merton,  a  wealthy,  retired  army 
officer  and  widower,  who  owned  one  of  the  finest 
residences  in  the  village:  a  large  brick  house  sur- 
rounded by  a  handsome  garden,  with  its  fine 
flowers,  shady  arbors  and  bubbling  fountain. 
Here  was  Bertha  Merton's  home.  The  very 
idol  of  her  father  and  a  maiden  aunt,  and  the  pet 
of  her  friends.  She  was  at  times  a  wild  and  will- 
ful little  beauty,  but  still  she  owned  a  noble, 
sympathetic  heart.  She  always  had  an  open  hand 
for  the  needy,  and  a  kind  word  for  those  in  afflic- 
tion. Many  of  the  poor  in  the  village  had 
blessed  her  for  aid  in  their  distress. 

On  reaching  her  father's  door,  the  first  person 
to  greet  the  little  lady  was  her  aunt. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        13; 

"O  Bertie,"  she  cried,  "how  in  the  world  did 
ou  get  so  wet  ?  Why  you  are  as  wet  as  you  can 
el" 

"O,  auntie,  I  went  swimming  in  the  river,  and 
that  was  real  jolly!" 

"Oh,  mercy  on  us!"  cried  the  latter  in  horror. 

"Yes,  auntie,  and  in  a  young  man's  arms.  And 
that  was  real  jolly  too !" 

An  explanation  followed,  and  Bertie  was  petted 
and  cried  over,  till  she  was  glad  to  be  alone. 

The  next  day  Miss  Merton  neither  saw  nor 
heard  anything  of  the  handsome  stranger,  who 
had  rescued  her  from  the  river.  Days  passed 
into  weeks,  but  still  she  heard  nothing  of  him, 
though  the  circumstance  was  the  talk  of  the  whole 
town.  Some  knowing  old  women  and  credulous 
young  ones  hinted  at  something  superhuman 
about  it. 

But  Miss  Bertie  would  declare,  to  all  their 
questions,  that  he  was  real  flesh  and  blood.  She 
remembered  him  too  well  to  allow  his  image  to 
leave  her  mind's  eye.  She  had  been  intently  tak- 
ing in  his  every  feature  when  the  horse  so  un- 
ceremoniously sprang  into  the  river.  And  the 
after  occurrences  had  impressed  every  lineament 
of  his  face  on  her  memory.  A  handsome  head 
of  curly  dark  brown  hair,  ever  floated  before  her 
visionary  dreams. 

"I  really  wonder  who  he  can  be?"  said  Bertie 
to  her  aunt.  "He  won't  even  come  to  be  thanked, 
and  be  lionized  for  his  bravery.  He  must  be  an 
independent  fellow  indeed.  But,  then,  he  was  too 
independent,  for  he  didn't  try  to  please  me  one 


14     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

bit,  and  you  know  I'm  not  used  to  being  treated 
in  that  way?" 

"No,"  replied  her  aunt,  laughing,  "I  should 
think  not,  by  the  number  of  suitors  at  your  com- 
mand." 

The  young  beauty  was  really  piqued  at  the  neg- 
lect of  the  "handsome  fellow,"  as  she  called  him. 
It  was  a  new  thing  to  her  not  to  be  sought  out 
and  courted. 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE. 

There  are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth,  Horatio, 

Than  are  dreamt  of  in  our  philosophy, 
'Tis  now  the  very  witching  time  of  night, 

When  churchyards  yawn,  and  hell  itself  breathes  out 
Contagion  to  this  world. — Hamlet. 

It  was  a  bleak  December  night  in  St.  Arlyle; 
the  strong  gusts  of  wind  and  rain  blowed  fiercely 
into  the  faces  of  those  treading  the  streets.  It 
was  late,  and  but  a  single  person  was  pushing 
along  the  principal  street  of  the  town.  It  was  the 
village  blacksmith,  Thomas  Gleaton,  (the  wit  of 
the  place)  wending  his  way  homeward.  As  he 
strode  onward  he  gave  an  occasional  grumble  at 
the  weather,  as  a  gust  of  wind  and  rain  struck 
him  full  in  the  face.  He  pushed  along  till  he  had 
nearly  reached  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  and 
commenced  to  ascend  the  low  hill,  overlooking 
the  town,  upon  which  his  house  and  shop  stood; 
while  nearly  opposite  frowned  against  the  sky 
the  "Haunted  House,"  a  large,  massive,  stone 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        15 

structure,  two  stories  in  height.  It  was  sur- 
rounded by  a  garden,  once  beautifully  arranged 
and  planted  with  choice  trees  and  flowers;  but  it 
had  been  neglected  for  years,  and  the  trees  and 
flowers  had  long  since  run  wild,  or  been  choked 
by  the  weeds.  In  the  middle  of  the  yard  stood 
a  fountain  decorated  with  marble  statues,  which 
had  long  grown  green  from  the  moss  that  had 
been  accumulating  on  them  for  years.  The 
garden  and  house  were  surrounded  by  a  high  iron 
fence. 

It  was  called  the  Haunted  House,  on  account 
of  its  being  said  that  the  apparition  of  a  mur- 
dered man,  the  former  owner,  was  wont  to  visit 
his  once  earthly  home. 

When  Gleaton  was  nearly  opposite  the  old 
building,  he  saw  a  ghostly  blue  light  gleam  from 
one  of  the  upper  windows  of  its  dark  walls. 
Could  it  be  possible,  he  thought,  that  the  light 
came  from  the  Haunted  House,  or  was  he  mis- 
taken? He  looked  again;  it  was  surely  there. 
A  weird,  blue  light,  that  grew  brighter  each 
moment. 

He  stopped  and  stood  gazing  in  wonder  at  the 
light.  Had  the  murdered  man's  spirit  really 
come  back  to  visit  his  earthly  residence?  No; 
he  must  be  mistaken;  his  eyes  were  deceiving 
him.  For  Gleaton  was  one  of  those  that  had 
scouted  the  idea  that  the  house  was  haunted.  He 
looked  again  and  again,  but  still  the  light  be- 
came more  and  more  brilliant! 

The  history  of  the  "Haunted  House"  was  a 
strange  one  and,  no  wonder,  the  legend  ran  that 
it  was  haunted.  Though  it  had  been  uninhabited 


1 6     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century,  yet  it  was  in 
nearly  as  good  condition  as  when  first  constructed. 
Its  gray  stone  walls  formed  a  clear  contrast  to 
the  wild  masses  of  green  ivy  and  running  roses 
that  clambered  up  its  sides  and  encircled  its  col- 
umns. Its  many  battlements  and  turrets  loomed 
,up  sharp  and  gloomy,  against  the  moon-lit  sky. 
'Even  the  many  windows  remained  unbroken;  for 
the  legend  of  the  apparition,  that  nightly  visited 
the  house,  kept  the  mischievous  school-boy  away; 
though  the  high  iron  fence  would  have  been  no 
barrier  to  his  nimble  legs. 

Its  history  was,  that  about  twenty-six  years  be- 
|  fore  this  night,  two  brothers  had  built  this  castel- 
lated mansion,  and  after  residing  happily  to- 
gether for  a  couple  of  years,  they  commenced 
quarrelling,  it  was  said,  about  a  woman,  but 
none  even  knew,  for  one  morning  the  elder  of 
the  brothers  was  found  dead  in  front  of  his 
house.  His  skull  had  been  crushed  with  an  axe, 
and  the  blood  spattered  over  bench  and  ivy.  The 
murderer  was  never  heard  of  after. 

After  this  sad  occurence  the  house  became  the 
property  of  a  nephew  of  the  unfortunate  men. 
He  had  it  sold,  and  it  was  purchased  by  a  rich 
chemist,  in  the  neighboring  city,  who  let  it  remain 
unoccupied  year  after  year,  until  nearly  a  quarter 
of  a  century  had  fled. 

The  house,  standing  on  a  hill,  CGiiimanded  a 
beautiful  view  of  the  surrounding  neighborhood 
and  the  distant  city.  It  would  have  been  a  beauti- 
ful place,  had  it  received  proper  care. 

It  was  said  by  the  superstitious  of  the  village, 
that  since  the  fratricide  the  murdered  brother 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE         17 

paid  nightly  visits  to  his  former  home.  Though 
no  ghost  had  ever  been  seen,  yet  strange  sounds 
were  heard  to  issue  from  the  old  building. 

Gleaton  stood  in  the  cold  gazing  almost 
thunderstruck  at  the  bright  blue  light  shining 
from  the  old  house. 

"Now,"  he  muttered,  "if  I  were  inclined  to  be- 
lieve in  ghosts,  here  is  something  unreal  and  un- 
natural! Here  is  a  strange  light  issuing  from 
the  'Haunted  House/  where  there  has  not  been 
seen  a  ray  for  a  quarter  of  a  century. 

"Why,  the  mischief!  The  blue  flame  has 
changed  to  a  green  one!  I  must  see  this  thing 
closer,"  he  continued,  as  he  pushed  on  toward  the 
iron  fence  that  surrounded  the  place. 

He  strode  up  to  the  inclosure  nearest  to  the 
window  whence  came  the  light.  He  had  a  plain 
view  of  the  room,  and  he  saw  what  appeared  to 
be  a  huge  furnace,  from  which  issued  large  vol- 
umes of  green  flame.  He  stood  watching  the 
room.  The  fire  seemed  to  grow  gradually  less; 
when  suddenly  a  bright  light  burst  from  the  win- 
dows illuminating  all  around,  even  the  garden 
and  fence.  It  was  so  bright  that  it  dazzled  his 
eyes.  When  he  looked  again  toward  the  window, 
he  saw  an  old  man  with  long  hair  standing  be- 
fore the  furnace.  He  had  watched  the  form  but 
a  few  minutes  when  suddenly  the  flame  changed 
to  a  blood  red,  followed  by  a  loud  explosion,  and 
the  building  was  enveloped  in  darkness.  Gleaton 
remained  a  short  time  leaning  against  the  fence, 
but  he  could  see  nothing  of  the  light.  Then 
turning  his  steps,  he  moved  homeward  as  he 
muttered : 


1 8     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Strange  performance,  by  jingo!  There  must 
be  some  trick  about  it.  But,  then,  what  would  a 
person  gain  by  going  to  so  much  trouble?  And, 
then,  when  no  one  might  see  the  strange  sight, 
for  I  do  not  believe  any  one  but  myself  saw  it." 

In  this  he  was  mistaken,  for  those  in  front  of 
the  public  house  had  also  seen  the  strange  phe- 
nomenon, and  as  Gleaton  passed  they  eagerly 
asked  if  he  had  seen  the  ghostly  performance. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "I  saw  the  spectacle." 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  now?  You  must 
acknowledge  there's  something  strange  about  it." 

"Yes,  you've  got  to  acknowledge  it  now,"  said 
another,  "there's  no  way  to  get  out  of  it.  The 
old  house  is  haunted." 

"Yes,"  said  the  public-house  keeper,  "there  are 
strange  uncanny  things  over  there,"  pointing  at 
the  old  house. 

These  questions  were  thrown  in  an  exultant 
tone  at  the  blacksmith,  for  he  was  among  those 
who  had  ridiculed  the  idea  of  a  ghost  haunting 
the  old  house. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  Gleaton  with  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye,  "those  lights  in  that  window  are 
mere  reflections  from  a  comet  that  astronomers 
have  just  discovered.  The  comet  is  not  visible 
yet,  being  below  the  horizon." 

At  this  reply  they  all  laughed,  while  Gleaton 
moved  onward.  He  was  the  wit  of  the  village 
and  never  allowed  an  opportunity  to  pass  of 
making  a  joke.  He  was  a  man  a  little  above  the 
ordinary  height,  rather  slimly  built;  but  a  well- 
knit  form.  He  had  a  large  head,  with  a  high, 
broad  forehead,  from  which  were  pushed  masses 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE         19 

of  black  wavy  hair;  bright  hazel  eyes  with  a  pe- 
culiar merry  twinkle  in  them;  a  well-formed  nose, 
and  a  sharp  cut  mouth,  bearded  with  dark  brown 
whiskers. 

He  had  a  strong  intellect  and  a  fair  education, 
which  was  much  improved  by  his  retentive  mem- 
ory and  his  love  of  reading.  There  was  ever  a 
droll  humor  about  him  and  a  keen  appreciation 
of  the  ridiculous.  He  was  nearly  always  pre- 
pared for  repartee,  no  matter  how  sudden  the 
attack.  He  soon  discovered  the  humorous  quali- 
ties of  the  villagers,  and  always  improved  his 
opportunities.  He  saw  the  witty  side  of  life 
when  others  failed  to  appreciate  it,  and  then 
presented  it  so  plainly  that  they  could  not  help 
seeing  the  hidden  humor.  As  the  poet  says: 

"True  wit  is  nature  to  advantage  dressed; 
That  oft  wa-s  thought,  but  ne'er  so  well  expressed." 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  VILLAGE   BLACKSMITH   SHOP. 

And  children  coming  home  from  school, 

Look  in  at  the  open  door, 
They  love  to  see  the  flaming  forge, 

And  hear  the  bellows  roar, 
And  catch  the  burning  sparks  that  fly 

Like  chaff,  from  a  threshing  floor. — Longfellow. 

The  next  morning  the  strange  lights  and  scenes 
in  the  Haunted  House  were  the  all  absorbing 
topics  of  conversation  in  the  village  and  sur- 
rounding country. 

Was  there  really  a  ghost  in  the  old  house? 


20      THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

If  not,  what  produced  the  marvellous  scenes? 
Many  who  were  skeptical  before  now  thought 
there  was  something  unearthly  in  the  strange 
performances;  and  those  who  had  believed  in 
the  apparition  before  were  now  more  firmly  con- 
vinced. 

At  night,  quite  large  crowds  collected  at  dif- 
ferent public  places,  but  by  far  the  largest  one 
was  in  the  blacksmith  shop,  to  discuss  the  appari- 
tion with  Tom  Gleaton. 

The  crowd  had  seated  themselves  on  every 
available  place  in  the  shop.  Each  of  the  three 
anvils  had  an  occupant  perched  upon  it,  while 
the  bench  in  the  corner  was  fully  occupied  by  a 
dozen  more;  others  were  seated  on  the  water  bar- 
rels, tubs  and  astride  the  wooden  horses,  while 
several  broken  plows  and  wagons  afforded  a 
resting  place  for  a  large  number  of  others. 

"Well,  Gleaton,"  said  one  of  those  assembled 
in  the  blacksmith  shop,  "there's  something 
strange  about  this  matter  anyhow." 

"Yes,  gentlemen,"  said  the  blacksmith,  with  a 
serious  countenance,  "I  know  of  no  way  to  ac- 
count for  it  unless  Dick  Lex  got  up  in  the  old 
house  when  he  was  on  a  drunk." 

Dick  Lex,  as  he  was  called,  was  a  lawyer  who 
had  become  perfectly  debauched  by  liquor,  a  tal- 
ented man  who  had  at  one  time  stood  high  in 
his  profession  and  had  been  the  admiration  of 
his  friends.  But  the  intoxicating  bowl  had 
dragged  him  down  till  he  had  lost  all  self-respect, 
and  become  the  butt  of  the  town's  wit.  He  was 
noted  for  being  able  to  out-talk  any  man  in  the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        21 

town,  and  on  that  account  and  his  sharp  wit, 
few  dared  to  face  him. 

"Well,  if  he  did,"  said  one  of  those  present, 
"I'd  like  to  know  how  he  could  cause  those 
strange  lights." 

"Well,  you  see,"  said  Gleaton,  "while  he  was 
up  there  he  might  have  got  to  talking  to  the  wall 
— you  know  how  Dick  can  talk — and  he  prob- 
ably talked  so  much  that  the  friction  from  his 
jaws  set  his  head  on  fire,  and  then  the  combus- 
tion spread  to  his  stomach  and  all  that  bad  whisky 
he  has  drank  for  the  last  ten  years  took  fire." 

This  explanation  was  followed  by  a  peal  of 
laughter.  When  it  had  subsided,  one  of  those 
present  said:  "But,  Gleaton,  seriously,  what  do 
you  think  of  this  strange  occurrence?" 

"Think,"  said  he  with  a  smile,  "that  it's  very 
rough  on  Dick  Lex." 

"But,"  chimed  in  a  third  one,  "I  saw  Dick 
to-day." 

"Well,  then,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "that  bursts 
up  my  theory.  I  was  thinking  of  reporting  it 
to  the  Professor  of  Chemistry  at  the  University." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  about  it,"  said  the 
village  carpenter,  "it's  the  spirit  of  that  man 
who  was  murdered  in  the  old  place  nigh  on  to 
thirty  years  ago." 

"Yes,"  said  another,  "it  must  be  his  ghost." 

"Yes,  there's  something  unnatural   about  it." 

"It  must  be  a  ghost,"  said  the  old  shoe-maker. 
"Such  things  ain't  natural." 

"Yes,"  said  the  blacksmith,  "there's  a  mys- 
tery somewhere.  He  must  be  fond  of  fire,  to 
have  such  a  large  one  " 


22     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"And  so  many  colored  ones,"  chimed  in  one 
of  those  on  the  bench. 

"He  must  be  a  partner  with  his  Satanic  Maj- 
esty in  the  brimstone  business;  he  keeps  up  a 
roaring  old  fire." 

"Yes,"  said  Gleaton,  "you'd  better  not  fool 
around  there,  he'll  catch  some  of  you." 

"Well,  I'd  like  to  see  his  ghostship  any  how," 
said  the  butcher. 

"You  better  keep  away,  or  the  town  will  be 
without  a  butcher." 

"Yes,  and  you  better  not  be  smelling  around 
there,  or  the  town  will  be  minus  an  iron-roaster," 
retorted  the  butcher. 

"But,  by  the  way,"  he  continued,  "did  you  hear 
of  the  accident  that  occurred  to-day?  The  rail- 
road cars  ran  over  a  boy." 

"No,  no,"  cried  several,  "when  did  it  occur?" 

"This  morning  about  eight  o'clock." 

"Did  it  hurt  him  much?"  asked  another. 

"Oh!  it  undoubtedly  killed  him." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  it  did,"  said  another.  "Too 
bad;  wasn't  it?" 

"Whose  boy  was  he?" 

"Captain  Brown's  son." 

"Sad  thing,"  said  a  man  seated  on  a  bench. 
"How  old  was  he?" 

"Brown's  boy  is  about  fifteen  years  old,"  an- 
swered another. 

"Why,  he  was  old  enough  to  keep  out  of  the 
way." 

"Yes,"  said  another,  "but  how  did  it  occur, 
Tom?" 

"Well,"  said  the  blacksmith,  with  very  sober 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        23 

countenance,  "he  was  under  the  bridge  fishing 
and  the  train  ran  over  the  bridge;  and  therefore 
it  ran  over  him." 

"I  thought  you  said  there  was  an  accident  to 
the  boy,"  yelled  the  butcher. 

"So  there  was.  He  lost  his  fishing  rod  in 
the  river." 

This  was  followed  by  a  laugh,  and  some  think- 
ing it  was  time  to  go  home,  as  Dave  Johnson 
asked:  "Did  that  boy  catch  any  fish?" 

"Oh  yes,  he  caught  a  few  suckers." 

In  a  short  time  but  the  three  remained  in  the 
shop.  The  blacksmith,  Dave  Johnson,  the 
butcher,  and  Bill  Anderson.  These  three  were 
strong  friends  and  were  always  ready  for  fun 
or  mischief.  Their  united  strength  at  practical 
jokes  and  hoaxes  was  the  terror  of  the  town. 

"Well,  Gleaton,"  said  the  butcher,  when  the 
crowd  had  left,  "if  you'd  come  along  where  that 
boy  was  fishing  he'd  have  caught  another  sucker." 

"Not  if  you'd  sold  the  boy's  father  any  of  that 
tough  beef  of  yours.  He'd  have  starved  to 
death  before  he  got  enough  of  it  chewed." 

"You've  eaten  a  good  deal  of  it  and  it  didn't 
starve  you  to  death,"  retorted  the  butcher. 

At  this  juncture  they  were  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  a  rich  old  farmer — an  Irishman — ? 
who  had  brought  a  wagon  load  of  plows  to  be 
mended.  Though  a  very  rich  man,  the  Irishman 
could  neither  read  nor  write.  The  three,  know- 
ing this,  thought  they  would  have  a  joke  at  his 
expense,  so  when  he  asked:  "What's  that  ye's 
was  arguin'  about?"  Gleaton  replied:  "We 
were  just  contending  whether  d-o-g  or  d-a-g  was 


24     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

the  right  way  to  spell  dog.  Now  how  would 
you  spell  it?" 

"Wid  letters  ov  course,"  he  replied. 

They  saw  they  were  beaten  on  their  own 
ground  and  acknowledged  it  by  a  merry  laugh. 

"I  tell  you,  Tom,"  said  Johnson  to  Gleaton, 
when  the  three  were  alone,  "we  must  investigate 
this  ghost  business,  that  we  must  do." 

"Now,  suppose  we  pay  a  visit  next  Saturday 
night  and  try  and  discover  the  mystery." 

"Let  me  see.  This  is  Wednesday,"  said  An- 
derson, "we  can  do  it,  can't  we?" 

"Agreed,"  said  the  other  two. 

"There  is  something  strange  about  this  thing." 

"Yes,  there's  a  deep  mystery." 

"And  we  must  look  into  it,  if  we  can,"  said 
Johnson,  as  they  turned  out  of  the  shop. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

A   VISIT  TO  THE   HAUNTED  HOUSE. 

Of  clanking  fetters — low,  mysterious  groans — 

Blood-crusted  daggers,  and  uncoffin'd  bones — 

Pale  gliding  ghosts,  with  fingers  dripping  gore 

And  blue  flames  dancing  round  a  dungeon  door. — Sprague. 

It  was  a  dark,  cold  night,  as  Gleaton  and  his 
two  companions  climbed  over  the  iron  fence  into 
the  garden  that  surrounded  the  Haunted  House. 
The  clock  in  the  neighboring  tavern  had  chimed 
the  hour  of  ten  and  most  of  the  villagers  had  re- 
tired for  the  night. 

The  old  house  loomed  up  dark  and  grim 
against  the  cloudy  sky.  Its  massive  stone  walls 


(A  Village  Mystery  and 
Through  War  to  Peace} 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        251 

and  pinnacles  seemed  to  frown  ominously  down 
upon  the  three  adventurers. 

"By  jingo!  Gleaton,"  said  Anderson,  "it  is 
cold!"  ' 

"Yes,  as  cold  as  the  Arctic  regions." 

"Now  this  is  the  best  side  to  watch  the  ghostly 
window,"  said  Anderson. 

"No,"  said  Gleaton;  "over  there  by  the  rose- 
bush, we  can  get  the  best  view," 

"Well,  here  we  are  in  position,"  said  John- 
son, "I  hope  we  won't  have  long  to  wait  for  his 
ghostship,  it's  too  cold  for  pleasure." 

"No,  I  don't  think  we  will.  It's  after  ten 
o'clock,  isn't  it,  Joe?" 

"Yes,  it's  time  for  the  ghost  to  appear." 

"He  might  be  poking  around  in  the  Infernal 
Regions  and  forget  his  usual  visit  on  earth,"  said 
Gleaton. 

"Yes,  he  might  be  stirring  up  his  Satanic  Maj- 
esty's fires  and  be  unable  to  get  away  from  busi- 


ness." 


"Keep  cool,  Gleaton,  you'll  see  the  spectre  soon 
enough." 

At  this  moment  Johnson  exclaimed:  "There's 
the  ghost!" 

They  turned  their  eyes  toward  the  window  and 
beheld  a  bright  green  light  gleaming  forth,  illu- 
minating the  garden  where  they  stood.  It  was  a 
large  window  and  admitted  a  view  of  most  of 
the  interior  of  the  room. 

Eagerly  they  gazed  through  the  window,  when 
suddenly  the  light  changed  to  brilliant  red. 

"Well,"  exclaimed  Johnson,  breaking  the  si- 
lence, "the  spectre's  at  his  work." 


26     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Yes,  and  he  seems  to  be  changing  his  colors." 

"By  jingo!  look  at  the  flames  leap  up.  The 
whole  apartment  seems  to  be  a  mass  of  fire." 

"Yes,  my  heavens,  he's  got  a  roaring  old  fire 
there!" 

"He  must  have  obtained  some  fire  and  brim- 
stone from  the  other  world  and  started  a  small- 
sized  hell  on  earth." 

"Listen,"  exclaimed  Anderson,  "do  you  hear 
the  roaring  of  the  flames?" 

"Yes,  I  should  think  so.  It  is  growing  louder 
every  moment !" 

"I  tell  you  what  it  is,  the  house  is  on  fire.  Wait 
a  moment  and  the  flames  will  burst  through  the 
roof." 

"No,"  answered  Gleaton,  "the  fire  has  been 
seen  there  for  the  last  week,  just  as  it  is  now. 
It's  always  confined  to  the  one  room." 

At  this  moment  groans  and  shrieks  issued 
forth  as  of  some  lost  spirit  in  anguish.  They 
grew  louder  and  louder  till  they  filled  the  room 
with  their  wild  melody!  Meanwhile  the  red 
flames  poured  forth  in  huge  volumes  till  they  lit 
up  the  garden  with  a  ghastly  glare.  The  men 
looked  at  each  other,  pale  and  terror-stricken. 

"There's  something  supernatural  about  this 
thing,"  exclaimed  Anderson. 

"Yes,"  replied  Gleaton,  "there's  a  deep  weird 
mystery  here." 

"The  devil  himself  must  be  loose.  Let's  leave, 
IVe  seen  enough,"  cried  Johnson,  pale  and  trem- 
bling. 

"No,  not  yet,u  replied  Gleaton,  "let's  see  the 
mystery  to  the  end!" 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        27 

"No,"  answered  the  former.  "I've  seen 
enough.  I'm  going  to  get  out." 

"Don't  leave  yet,  Johnson.  I  know  it  seems 
as  if  there  were  something  supernatural  about  it, 
but  stay  and  see  the  thing  out." 

"No,  my  curiosity  is  satisfied,  I  am  going.  I've 
seen  enough  for  my  peace  of  mind.  It  must  be 
a  demon's  work." 

"By  thunder,"  exclaimed  Gleaton,  when  John- 
son had  left  them,  "I  don't  believe  in  spirits;  but 
there's  something  here  I  can't  account  for  by  hu- 


man causes." 


"Yes,  there's  something  strange  and  unearth- 
ly," replied  the  other. 

"And  we  must  try  to  discover  it." 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Anderson,  with  a  shake 
of  the  head,  "we  had  better  leave  unnatural 
things  alone." 

"No;  let's  see  more  of  the  spirits;  if  they  are 
spirits  they  won't  hurt  us,  and  if  it's  a  trick,  let 
us  find  it  out." 

The  other  shook  his  head  in  a  deprecatory 
manner  as  he  answered:  "I  can't  see  who  would 
play  the  trick.  What  would  they  gain  by  it?  Be- 
sides, it's  strange  and  unnatural.  I'm  convinced 
that  it's  the  work  of  ghostly  beings." 

"Ghost  or  no  ghost,"  said  the  other,  "I  am 
determined  to  see  more.  You  may  go  if  you  wish 
to  do  so,  but  I  intend  to  remain." 

"No,  Fll  stay  with  you.  But  I  believe  these 
strange  scenes  are  the  work  of  no  human  hands. 
It  may  be  the  work  of  the  old  Nick  himself.  But 
I'll  stay  and  see  the  program  out." 


28     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Bravo!  Anderson,  that's  right,  I'm  glad 
you'll  stay  and  see  the  thing  through." 

"I'll  stay  as  long  as  you  will,"  said  Anderson. 

"That's  right.     Now  let's  move  forward." 

Meanwhile,  the  strange  lights  and  noises  con- 
tinued to  issue  from  the  old  house. 

"What  do  you  propose  to  do,  Gleaton?"  asked 
Anderson. 

"Climb  that  tree  that  stands  near  the  house  and 
look  through  the  window.  We  will  be  able  to 
see  a  good  deal  of  the  interior  of  the  room  from 
the  tree  top.  It's  a  high  tree  nearly  on  a  level 
with  the  window." 

When  they  had  climbed  nearly  two-thirds  of 
the  way  up  the  pine  tree  they  took  a  firm  hold  of 
the  limbs  and  eagerly  looked  into  the  room.  At 
first  they  could  see  nothing  but  a  mass  of  red 
flames;  but  gradually  they  could  distinguish  a 
huge  furnace  whence  the  red  fire  issued.  It  was 
a  large  room,  and  they  were  unable  to  see  the 
walls.  Wild  ghostly  figures  seemed  flitting  about, 
while  loud  groans  and  shrieks  continued  to  issue 
forth.  They  gazed  on  the  scene  but  a  few  min- 
utes, when  a  tall,  old  man  appeared  before  the 
furnace.  He  had  a  long,  white  beard  reaching 
far  down  upon  his  flowing  robe;  a  wrinkled  face, 
pale  and  ghostly,  around  which  hung  masses  of 
long  white  hair. 

At  intervals,  he  would  throw  some  object  into 
the  flames  and  this  would  be  followed  by  shrieks 
and  groans. 

The  two  men  clung  to  the  tree  and  looked  at 
each  other  white  and  trembling. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        29 

"It  is  the  Evil  One  himself  holding  his  hellish 
carnival." 

"Yes,  it  must  be  a  demon  at  his  devilish  work." 

"This  certainly  is  no  human  being's  work." 

"No,  it  is  some  foul  spectre  at  his  dreadful 
play.  Have  you  seen  enough,  Anderson?" 

"No,  as  you  said,  Gleaton,  let's  see  this  thing 
to  the  end." 

"What  do  you  propose  to  do?" 

"We  must  get  down  and  try  and  get  a  closer 
view." 

"Yes,  we  ought  to  do  that;  but  how  will  we  ac- 
complish it?" 

"We  can  climb  upon  that  porch  that  runs  along 
beneath  the  window.  By  going  to  the  edge  of 
the  porch  we  can  look  through  the  window." 

"Yes,  I  think  we  can  struggle  to  the  top  of 
the  portico." 

"Then  let's  go  down  to  the  ground  and  make 
the  attempt." 

The  two  descended  to  the  ground,  and  cross- 
ing the  yard  to  the  house  they  ascended  the  steps 
with  hearts  beating  like  trip  hammers  and  their 
faces  pale,  but  determined.  They  commenced  to 
climb  up  one  of  the  columns,  grasping  hold  of 
the  vines  that  twined  about  it.  After  a  short 
struggle,  they  reached  the  top  of  the  portico. 

"Well,"  said  Gleaton,  "like  the  clown  in  the 
circus,  'here  we  are.'  ' 

"And  now  for  a  peep  at  the  Demon's  cham- 
ber," cried  the  other,  while  the  roar  of  the  flames 
nearly  drowned  his  voice. 

Slowly  and  tremblingly  the  two  approached 
the  window  and  eagerly  gazed  into  the  haunted 


30      THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

chamber.  They  could  see  wild  tongues  of  flame 
licking  up  all  before  them  with  hissing  sounds  and 
terrible  groans.  Suddenly  two  bloody  hands  rose 
amid  the  flames  and  then  disappeared,  while 
shriek  followed  shriek,  as  if  a  thousand  lost 
spirits  were  bewailing  their  anguish. 

The  two  stood  terror-stricken,  unable  to  move. 
They  were  leaning  upon  the  window-sill  for  sup- 
port, when,  unexpectedly,  the  old  man  appeared 
before  their  vision,  the  colored  flames  giving  a 
weird  expression  to  his  face.  He  stood  gazing 
with  a  grim  smile  of  satisfaction  at  the  roaring 
flames  and  then  turned  toward  the  window.  The 
two  sprang  from  the  window,  pale,  and  trembling 
in  every  limb,  fled  down  the  column  and  across 
the  yard,  not  halting  till  they  stood  outside  the 
iron  fence. 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE   CHANCE  MEETING. 

'Tis  sweet  to  remember,  I  would  not  forego 

The  charm  which  the  past  o'er  the  present  can  throw, 

For  all  the  gay  visions  that  fancy  can  weave 

In  her  web  of  illusions  that  shines  to  deceive. — W.  G.  Clark. 

It  was  a  bright,  spring  morning,  as  Miss  Bertie 
Merton  stood  on  the  steps  of  her  father's  house, 
attired  in  her  blue  riding  habit,  holding  a  silver- 
mounted  riding  whip,  with  which  she  was  gently 
tapping  a  large  New  Foundland  dog  that  lay  at 
her  feet.  The  dog  wagged  his  tail,  and  looked 
proudly  up  in  his  mistress'  face  as  if  he  felt  duly 
honored  by  her  patronage. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        31 

As  she  stood  waiting  for  her  horse  to  be 
brought,  the  little  blue  figure  formed  a  pretty 
picture  against  the  grey  granite  steps.  The 
queenly  little  head  surmounted  by  the  velvet  hat 
with  its  scarlet  feather  drooped  over  her  plump 
shoulders,  as  she  placed  it  on  her  head  that  morn- 
ing, and  looking  into  the  mirror,  she  noticed  with 
pleasure  how  becoming  it  was  to  her  pretty  face. 

She  had  not  worn  the  hat  since  her  fall  into 
the  river  and  her  noble  rescue  by  the  handsome 
stranger — nearly  a  year  ago.  She  could  not  help 
wondering  why  she  had  not  heard  of  him  since, 
and  if  she  would  ever  meet  him  again. 

As  she  stood  on  the  steps  she  formed  quite  a 
contrast  to  her  cousin,  Miss  May  Wentworth, 
standing  near  her,  who,  since  the  death  of  her 
parents,  had  come  to  live  with  her  uncle.  Miss 
May  was  a  handsome  blonde,  with  a  tall  graceful 
figure,  nearly  a  head  taller  than  Bertie — long 
silken  hair,  reaching  nearly  to  her  waist;  a  clear 
white  forehead,  and  an  aquiline  nose;  a  pearly- 
white  complexion;  a  small  rosy  mouth,  that 
showed  two  rows  of  even  white  teeth  when  the 
lips  parted,  and  melting  blue  eyes  that  strongly 
contrasted  with  Bertie's  bright  black  ones.  She 
wore  a  white  dress,  cut  low  at  the  neck,  showing 
a  bosom  and  throat  as  white  as  alabaster,  with 
a  blue  sash  encircling  her  waist  and  fastened  in 
a  bow  at  the  back;  a  little  white  hand  was  partly 
buried  in  the  folds  of  her  dress,  and  a  small, 
arched  foot  peeped  out  from  beneath  the  white 
robe. 

She  was  a  noble,  sweet-tempered  girl,  whom 
Bertie  had  learned  to  love  dearly  in  the  three 


32     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

months  that  they  had  been  together.  And  one 
could  soon  see,  by  May's  gentle  ways,  that  their 
love  was  mutual.  Miss  Wentworth  was  but  a 
year  older  than  her  cousin,  though  she  looked 
much  the  elder.  Bertie's  small  stature  and  pretty 
face  gave  her  a  more  youthful  appearance.  "So 
you  won't  go  with  me  to-day,  May,"  said  her 
cousin  Bertie,  when  the  horse  was  brought  around 
to  the  steps. 

"No,  not  to-day,  Bertie;  I  don't  feel  well,  I 
have  a  headache." 

"I  am  sorry  you  don't  feel  well,  May,  it  is  the 
first  time  I've  ridden  without  you  since  your  ar- 
rival, and  I  don't  like  to  leave  cousin  May  be- 
hind." 

"Oh,  never  mind,  Bertie,  enjoy  your  ride.  The 
pain  in  my  head  will  soon  go  away,  when  I  lie 
down."  Miss  Merton,  after  kissing  her  cousin, 
bounded  into  the  saddle,  and  throwing  a  kiss  to 
her  father,  who  was  at  the  window,  she  galloped 
out  into  the  street. 

She  rode  rapidly  onward,  till  she  reached  the 
bridge,  where  a  year  before  she  had  been  so  un- 
ceremoniously pitched  into  the  river  and  rescued 
from  drowning.  Since  that  day  she  had  neither 
seen  nor  heard  one  word  of  the  handsome 
stranger,  and  as  she  came  in  view  of  the  bridge 
her  thoughts  wandered  back  to  the  event. 

"I  wonder  what  has  become  of  him?  I  should 
really  like  to  see  him  again.  He  was  a  hand- 
some fellow;  but  he  is  too  independent,  not  even 
to  come  and  be  thanked.  Of  course  he  has  heard 
all  about  me,  and  his  brave  act  has  been  the  town 
talk  ever  since.  Well,  I  don't  like  him  a  bit  if 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        33 

he  is  brave  and  handsome.  It  was  naughty  in 
him  not  to  make  himself  known  after  the  excite- 
ment he  caused,"  continued  the  little  beauty,  as 
she  turned  her  horse  and  rode  up  the  road  that 
ran  along  the  river.  She  had  ridden  about  half 
a  mile  along  the  river,  thinking  of  the  handsome 
stranger,  when  suddenly  her  horse  came  nearly 
opposite  a  path  leading  into  the  road,  and  the 
object  of  her  thoughts  stepped  into  the  highway. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  black  suit,  the  same  double- 
breasted,  black  velvet  vest — or  one  that  looked 
exactly  the  same — with  the  heavy  gold  chain 
across  it;  and  the  same  military  hat,  with  the 
double  silken  cords  around  it.  He  held  a  large 
book  under  his  arm.  All  this  Miss  Merton  took 
in  at  a  glance,  as  her  heart  gave  a  wild  bound  be- 
neath the  blue  waist. 

She  drew  up  her  horse  beside  him.  The  recog- 
nition was  mutual,  for  she  had  been  as  much  the 
subject  of  his  thoughts  as  he  had  been  of  her 
cogitations. 

She  held  out  her  hand  as  he  raised  his  hat,  and 
as  he  grasped  the  little  hand,  she  said  with  a 
winning  smile  i 

"Why,  how  are  you,  Doctor?" 

"How  are  you,  Miss  Merton?  I  see  you  have 
dried  yourself  after  your  impromptu  bath." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  smiling,  "but  it  did  not  take 
quite  a  year  to  do  it." 

"No,  I  suppose  not.  The  same  jaunty  hat  with 
its  scarlet  feather.  How  becoming,"  he  con- 
tinued, smiling. 

"No,  not  the  same  feather.    The  water  spoiled 


34     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

that  one  and  I  had  to  get  another.  A  scarlet 
feather  is  essential  to  my  happiness." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  he  replied,  smiling,  "but 
this  plume  is  just  like  the  other." 

"Yes,  exactly  the  same.  Now,  I  must  thank 
you  for  rescuing  me  from*  the  water — you  know 
I  didn't  have  time  to  do  it  then.  You  hurried 
me  away.  But  why  didn't  you  let  me  know  where 
you  were,  so  that  I  could  have  thanked  you  long 
ago  ?  You've  heard  all  about  me.  Now,  haven't 
you?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  laughing. 

"Now,  wasn't  it  naughty  in  you  to  keep  me  in 
ignorance?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Yes,  you  do  know!    Wasn't  it?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  laughing. 

"I  know  you  have  learned  my  name.  But  I 
don't  know  yours." 

"Yesf"  he  replied,  smiling.  "Mine  is  Charles 
Landon." 

"Dr.  Charles  Landon?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,"  he  replied. 

"I've  heard  of  you  before,  but  I  never  met  you 
to  know  you." 

"This  is  a  beautiful  day  to  ride?" 

"Yes,  a  very  pleasant  day." 

"A  nice  day  for  you  to  take  a  bath  in  the  river." 

"I  have  no  doubt,  sir.  But  I  don't  intend  to 
do  so.  By  the  way,  what  did  you  do  with  those 
fish  you  caught  that  day  you  helped  me  out  of  the 
river?" 

"I   forgot  them   and  left  them   lying  on  the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        35 

rocks.  I  suppose  they  latf  there  till  they  de- 
cayed." * 

"No,"  she  replied  with  an  arch  smile,  "I  stole 
them  that  night,  and  they  were  splendid,  too." 

"Oh,  were  they?"  he  replied,  laughing.  "I'm 
glad  to  hear  it." 

"Yes,  indeed,  they  were.  You  are  going  to  the 
University  on  the  hill.  You  are  their  Professor 
of  Chemistry,  are  you  not?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied.  "I  am  going  to  lecture  to 
the  students." 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I  must  ride  on.  But  you 
must  come  and  see  my  father  to-night,  and  give 
him  an  opportunity  to  thank  you  for  saving  his 
daughter's  life." 

"I  cannot  pay  you  a  visit  to-night,  although  it 
would  afford  me  great  pleasure  to  do  so.  But  to- 
morrow evening  I  can,  if  agreeable  to  you." 

"Well  then,  see  that  you  come  to-morrow 
evening.  I  must  go  now,  good-bye !" 

"Farewell,"  he  said  as  he  raised  his  hat  and 
walked  a  short  distance;  then  stopped  and  stood 
watching  the  little  figure  in  blue  as  she  rode  out 
of  sight.  "She's  as  handsome  as  a  Houri,  and 
she  rides  like  a  queen.  No  wonder  she  has  many 
admirers." 

"Fair    tresses    man's    imperial    race    ensnare, 
And  beauty  draws  us  with  a  single  hair." 

"I  must  visit  her  to-morrow  evening.  They 
say  she's  a  schooled  coquette,  but  never  mind,  my 
beauty,  you  won't  add  me  to  the  moths  around 
your  candle." 

Thus  the  young  Doctor's  thoughts  ran  on  the 


36     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

pretty  face  he  had  just  left,  as  he  strode  rapidly 
towards  the  college  which  stood  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  village.  He  held,  as  the  reader  is  aware, 
the  professorship  of  chemistry,  and  lectured  every 
morning  to  the  students  on  that  science. 

Dr.  Charlie  Landon,  as  he  was  usually  called, 
was  a  noble,  brilliant  fellow,  the  most  popular 
professor  in  the  college,  and  a  great  favorite  with 
the  village.  He  was  one  of  those  men,  whom, 
when  we  meet,  something  irresistibly  seems  to 
draw  us  toward  them,  making  us  feel  that  we 
kave  met  one  of  nature's  noblemen.  Many  a 
poor  man  had  blessed  him  for  his  generous  aid 
in  time  of  sickness  and  his  kind  words  of  encour- 
agement. As  Miss  Merton  rode  onward,  she  fell 
into  a  deep  train  of  thought,  of  which  the  young 
physician  was  the  subject. 

uSo,  then,  it  was  Dr.  Charlie  Landon  who  res- 
cued me  from  drowning.  The  man  the  whole 
town  has  been  praising,  till  I  was  sick  of  hearing 
his  name.  I  imagined  him  to  be  a  conceited  fellow, 
but  he's  not  the  least  bit  conceited  or  proud.  It 
was  real  mean  in  him  not  to  let  himself  be  known, 
when  he  knew  his  bravery  in  jumping  into  the 
river  was  the  talk  of  the  village.  It  was  he  who 
said  I  was  a  thorough  coquette,  when  I  jilted 
poor  Dick  Benedict;  but,  then,  Dick  soon  recov- 
ered and  married  Nellie  Brown.  Never  mind, 
Doctor,  I'll  make  your  heart  burn  yet  for  that 
remark.  Then  he  is  so  provokingly  cool ;  he  knew 
who  it  was  he  had  rescued  from  the  water,  but  he 
never  even  mentioned  it.  Kept  it  a  secret  for  a 
year,  nobody  knows  how  much  longer,  had  I 
not  accidently  met  him.  I  don't  like  those  kind 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        37) 

of  men,  they  are  so  hard  to  do  anything  with. 
But  when  they  do  yield,  they're  gone.  Coaxing 
and  petting  at  first,  and  by  and  by  they  yield." 

Lost  in  these  reflections,  she  rode  rapidly  on- 
ward till  she  reached  home.  As  she  was  dis- 
mounting from  her  horse,  she  exclaimed  to  her 
cousin,  who  was  standing  on  the  steps: 

"Oh,  May,  I've  found  the  man  who  pulled  me 
from  the  river.  And  who  do  you  think  he  is?" 

"Why,  how  should  I  know,  Bertie?" 

"Why,  it's  Dr.  Charlie  Landon." 

"Dr.  Landon?  Why,  I  had  no  idea  it  was  he. 
I  am  indeed  surprised." 

"Yes,  it  was  he;  and  I  don't  believe  I  like 
him." 

"Don't  think  you  like  him?  Don't  you  know, 
whether  you  do  or  not?" 

"Well,  I  don't  like  him  for  staying  away  and 
not  letting  me  know  who  it  was  that  fished  me 
from  the  river,  as  if  I  were  nobody.  It  wasn't 
even  polite." 

"How  do  you  know  he  did,  Bertie?" 

"Why,  the  circumstance  was  talked  of  all  about 
the  neighborhood,  and  don't  you  believe,  he  had 
the  audacity  to  tell  me  so.  I  really  feel  quite 
piqued." 

"That's  something  new  to  Miss  Bertie.  But 
where  did  you  meet  him  to-day?" 

"I  met  him  on  the  road." 

"Why,  did  you  never  meet  him  before?" 

"No,  I  never  saw  him  till  the  day  I  fell  so 
unceremoniously  into  the  river.  I've  heard  so 
much  about  him,  I  thought  he  must  be  a  conceited 
fellow." 


38      THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Well,  do  you  find  him  so?" 

"I  don't  exactly  know,  May.  But,  then,  he 
treats  me  with  such  coolness.  He  doesn't  seem 
to  care  whether  he  pleases  me  or  not." 

Miss  Wentworth  laughed,  for  she  had  often 
heard  Bertie  speak  admiringly  of  the  handsome 
stranger  who  rescued  her  from  the  water. 

The  next  evening  found  Dr.  Landon  knocking 
at  Captain  Merton's  residence.  Bertie  answered 
the  door  herself,  and  when  she  saw  him,  ex- 
claimed : 

"Oh,  Doctor,  I'm  glad  to  see  youVe  kept  your 
promise." 

"Are  you?  I  always  keep  my  promises  with 
pretty  girls." 

"Now,  sir,  no  compliments,"  she  replied, 
laughing. 

When  they  had  entered  the  parlor  Bertie  said: 
"This  is  my  cousin,  Miss  May  Wentworth." 
Miss  Wentworth  arose  and  held  out  her  hand,  as 
she  said: 

"The  Doctor  and  I  have  met  many  times  be- 
fore." 

"Oh,  have  you?  Then  I  suppose  you  are  old 
friends." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "we  have  met  quite  often." 
"I  think,  Bertie,"  continued  May,  laughing,  "that 
you  ought  to  be  introduced  to  Dr.  Landon.  I 
don't  believe  you  ever°were." 

"But,  when  a  man  takes  a  girl  in  his  arms, 
that  ought  to  be  introduction  enough." 

"And  kisses  her,  too,"  replied  Landon. 

"No,  sir,  you  didn't  kiss  me;  I  would  not  al- 
low that !" 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        39 

"How  do  you  know?  Weren't  you  insensible 
when  I  was  swimming  out  of  the  river  with  you?" 

"No,  not  for  an  instant.  Why,  did  you  think 
so?" 

"You  kept  so  quiet,  I  thought  you  were  insen- 
sible." 

"And  you  thought  about  kissing  me.  Well,  sir, 
you'd  have  got  your  ears  boxed  if  you  had." 

"That  wouldn't  be  a  very  severe  penalty  for 
kissing  a  pretty  girl.  Do  you  think  it  would,  Miss 
Wentworth?" 

"I  don't  know,"  she  replied  laughing. 

They  all  laughed,  and  Miss  Bertie  said: 

"May  says  you've  been  in  California.  It  must 
be  a  wonderful  country,  where  they  find  so  much 
gold.  Please  tell  us  something  about  it.  I  am 
very  anxious  to  hear  about  the  land  of  gold." 

"Yes,  I  went  there  in  charge  of  a  geological  ex- 
pedition. From  California,  we  went  into  Ari- 
zona, and  thence  into  Mexico,  seeing  in  our 
travels  quite  a  variety  of  wild  life." 

Thus  they  spent  a  very  pleasant  and  instructive 
evening,  as  he  described  to  them  the  scenes  and 
adventures  in  those  new  countries,  often  telling 
them  in  such  a  humorous  and  droll  manner  that 
they  laughed  till  they  almost  cried.  Then  he  told 
so  vividly  and  pathetically  of  the  sad  death  and 
burial  of  noble  comrades,  while  bravely  doing 
their  duty  in  those  wild  lands,  (always  keeping 
himself  in  the  back  ground)  that  several  times 
tears  shone  in  the  young  ladies'  eyes.  For, 
though  he  was  but  twenty-six  years  of  age,  he 
was  old  in  experience,  for  he  had  studied  deeply 
in  science,  and  was  an  interesting  talker. 


40     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 


CHAPTER  VI. 


LOVE  AND  SCIENCE. 

Like  the  lone  bird  that  flutters  her  pinion, 

And  warbles  in  bondage  her  strain, 
I  have  struggled  to  fly  thy  dominion, 

But  find  that  the  struggle  is  vain. — Morris. 

As  the  summer  days  passed  rapidly  away,  many 
an  evening  found  Dr.  Charlie  Landon  at  Captain 
Merton's  residence;  and  on  bright  evenings  Miss 
Bertie  and  he  strolled  along  the  river  in  pleasant 
conversation.  It  is  said — forewarned,  fore- 
armed— so  he  thought  there  was  no  danger  that 
he  would  ever  fall  in  love  with  the  golden-haired 
little  lady,  for  he  had  often  been  told  that  she 
was  a  finished  coquette.  Though  it  was  pleasant 
to  linger  near  her,  it  meant  nothing  more.  But 
as  the  poet  says : 

For  love  at  first  is  but  a  dreamy  thing, 

That  slyly  nestles  in  the  human  heart, 
A  morning  lark  which  never  plumes  his  wing, 

Till  hopes  and  fears,  like  lights  and  shadows,  part. 

But  he  was  only  human  after  all,  and  his  heart 
soon  learned  to  beat  quicker  whenever  the  neat 
little  figure  with  the  jaunty  hat  and  scarlet  plume 
floated  before  his  vision.  So  he  took  his  first 
lessons  in  love,  and  rapidly  became  as  adept  a 
student  as  he  ever  had  been  in  the  field  of  science. 
Till  now,  he  had  been  fancy  free,  impregnable 
to  every  woman's  pretty  face.  But  when  those 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        41 

men  who  are  slow  to  join  the  ranks  of  cupid  be- 
gin to  love,  they  plunge  in  with  all  the  passion  of 
their  heart  and  soul;  unlike  those  shallow  swains, 
who  imagine  themselves  enamoured  with  every 
pretty  form  they  see  till  some  other  equally 
pretty  draws  them  away.  Thus  unconsciously  he 
was  falling  in  love — insensibly  learning  the  bright 
lessons  of  love.  The  lessons,  gentle  reader,  you 
and  I  have  learned,  or  shall  in  the  years  to  come. 
Love,  the  old,  old  story,  yet  ever  fresh  and  new. 
The  story  of  the  heart;  one  of  the  feelings 
"Time  cannot  benumb." 

Coquette,  he  heard  Miss  Merton  to  be,  there- 
fore she  could  have  no  influence  on  him.  But 
often  where  the  head  is  cool  and  collected,  the 
heart  grows  stronger  and  bravely  pushes  on. 
Perhaps  it  is  better  so;  for  the  heart  is  often 
noble,  where  the  intellect  would  be  severe.  So, 
in  these  three  months,  he  had  made  such  progress 
in  love  that  to  retreat  was  almost  impossible,  but 
to  press  on  was  easy. 

This  clear  summer  evening,  Dr.  Landon  put 
his  books  on  the  shelves  in  the  laboratory,  pushed 
aside  the  chemical  apparatus,  and  kicked  the  new 
box  of  minerals  under  the  table,  though  there 
were  several  rare  ones,  and  a  new  metal  just  dis- 
covered which  chemists  were  eagerly  investigat- 
ing. He  had  taken  great  pains  to  obtain  it,  hav- 
ing sent  nearly  a  thousand  miles  for  the  ore  con- 
taining the  metal.  But  he  was  studying  another 
science  now,  even  more  interesting  and  compli- 
cated than  chemistry — that  of  love.  When  he 
had  extinguished  the  light  in  the  laboratory,  he 
closed  the  door,  and  walking  down  stairs,  bent 


42     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

his  steps  rapidly  toward  Captain  Merton's  resi- 
dence. On  ringing  the  door  bell,  Miss  Bertie  an- 
swered it  in  person. 

"Oh,  Dr.  Charlie,"  she  exclaimed,  "I'm  glad 
you've  come !  Ned  Wilberton  and  May  went  out 
walking,  and  I  could  not  go  with  them;  for  two 
are  company  and  three  are  none.  It  is  such  a 
beautiful  evening,  I  longed  to  take  a  stroll  in  the 
open  air." 

"How  do  you  know  I'll  go  with  you?"  he 
asked,  laughing. 

"Oh,  I  know  you  will.  That's  a  good  fellow. 
Now,  won't  you?" 

"I  don't  know.  But  get  ready  and  then  I'll 
tell  you." 

"I  knew  you  would,"  she  said,  laughing. 

"I  didn't  say  so." 

"But  you  will."  And  she 'hurried  away,  leaving 
him  seated  on  the  stone  steps. 

Presently  she  returned,  wearing  the  becoming 
hat  with  its  scarlet  plume  and  the  shawl  on  her 
arm.  He  wrapped  it  around  her  plump  shoul- 
ders, and  they  turned  down  the  garden  walk  to- 
ward the  river. 

"Well,  Dr.  Charlie,"  said  she,  "I  thought  you 
were  not  coming  to-night.  You  said  you  were 
going  to  examine  those  rare  minerals  and  that 
new  metal,  which  has  just  been  discovered." 

"Yes,  I  ought  to  have  investigated  them,  but 
I  thought  more  of  you  than  of  them.  Don't  you 
feel  flattered?"  he  asked,  smiling. 

"Yes,"  she  replied  archly,  "I  should  think  so, 
to  be  compared  to  rare  minerals,"  and  she  added, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        43 

"even  if  they  are  new  ones.  By  the  way,  what 
are  the  names  of  the  metals?" 

"They  are  called  Germanium  Indium,  and 
Radium.'  " 

"And  what  are  their  uses?" 

"Chemists  have  found  no  use  for  them  all, 
except  Radium." 

"And  the  new  mineral  is  called  Achrematite, 
isn't  it?" 

"Why,  yes!  The  little  lady  has  done  well 
to  remember  that  hard  word." 

"But  what  does  the  ore  contain  besides 
silver?" 

"I  do  not  think  it  contains  silver  at  all, 
though  it  was  sent  from  Mexico  to  the  Univer- 
sity as  such.  It  undoubtedly  contains  lead,  mixed 
with  arsenic  and  molybdenum;  if  you  remember, 
that  rare  metal  I  showed  you  in  the  laboratory 
the  other  day  was  molybdenum." 

"Oh,  yes,  that  white  one  almost  as  lustrous  as 
silver,  but  not  near  so  heavy." 

"Yes,  that's  the  metal,"  he  replied,  laughing. 
"Why,  you  will  soon  become  a  chemist." 

"Oh,  I  should  dearly  love  to  study  chemistry. 
But  I  don't  like  those  hard  formulas  you  gave  the 
students,  H*  S  and  C  H  Cl  3 ." 

"Why,"  he  exclaimed,  "you  do  remember 
those  formulas.  I  had  no  idea  you  would.  No, 
of  course,  you  wouldn't  begin  chemistry  by  learn- 
ing those  dry  symbols.  But  they  become  easy 
enough  after  you  understand  their  meaning. 
Since  you  haven't  forgotten  the  formulas,  can  you 
tell  what  they  represent,  Pussie?" 

"No,  I  do  not  know  what  both  of  them  sig- 


44     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

nify,"  she  replied,  as  she  nestled  her  head  against 
his  shoulder. 

"They  stand  for  sulphuretted  hydrogen  and 
chloroform." 

"Then,  Charlie,"  said  she  with  an  arch  smile, 
"why  don't  you  say  sulphuretted  hydrogen  and 
chloroform,  instead  of  those  letters?" 

"Because  those  letters  tell  of  what  the  sub- 
stances are  composed;  which  is  the  idea  of  chem- 
istry desolving  a  substance  into  its  simplest  parts. 
For  instance,  H  2  S,  stands  for  one  part  or  one 
molecule  of  sulphuretted  hydrogen,  and  it  also 
tells  that  one  part  is  composed  of  two  atoms  of 
hydrogen  and  one  atom  of  sulphur;  C  H  Cl  s, 
indicates  that  chloroform  is  composed  of  one 
atom  each  of  carbon  and  hydrogen,  and  three 
atoms  of  chlorine;  another  reason  for  using  let- 
ters is,  that  it  is  a  shorter  method  of  expression. 
And  then  by  using  letters,  chemists  have  a  uni- 
versal nomenclature  or  language,  understood  by 
all,  be  he  a  French,  German  or  Russian  chemist. 
Just  as  a  physician's  prescription  can  be  read  by 
all  druggists  whatever  their  nationality  may  be. 
You  know  how  these  letters  are  derived,  Bertie?" 

"Yes,  they  are  the  first  letter  or  two  letters  of 
the  metals  or  element's  Latin  name.  As  S  stands 
for  sulphur;  Co  for  cobalt;  Au  for  gold,  from 
its  Latin  name,  aurum;  and  Fe  for  iron,  its  Latin, 
ferrum.  But  I  did  not  know  before  why  the  first 
letters  of  their  Latin  names  were  used  instead  of 
their  English." 

"Yes,  these  symbols  are  used  so  as  to  have  a 
unity  in  the  science  all  over  the  civilized  world. 
As  you  know,  there  are  seventy-five  elements  in 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        45 

Chemistry,  of  which  five  are  gases,  sixty-two  are 
metals  and  eight  are  metaloids.  All  compounds 
are  made  from  these  seventy-five  elements." 

"I  thought  there  were  sixty  elements." 

"Did  the  book  you  studied  at  school  give  that 
number?" 

"Yes,  I  think  it  did." 

"I  have  no  doubt.  But  chemists  have  discov- 
ered ten  new  metals  since  the  book  was  written." 

"How  do  you  know  some  metals  from  others, 
when  they  look  so  much  alike?" 

"Oh,  chemists  have  many  ways  by  which  they 
can  determine  a  metal,  and  even  quickly  extract 
it  from  a  compound  of  many  different  matters." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  river,  and 
as  they  stood  gazing  upon  its  bright  surface 
gleaming  in  the  moonlight,  she  exclaimed : 

"How  bright  and  beautiful  it  looks." 

"Yes,  wouldn't  you  like  to  plunge  into  it,  just 
as  you  did  when  I  first  saw  you,  on  purpose  to 
have  me  pull  you  out." 

"No,  sir,  I  didn't  fall  into  the  river  purposely! 
How  could  I  prevent  my  horse  from  plunging 
into  the  water?" 

"You  might  have  made  him,"  said  he  teasingly. 

"No,  I  didn't,  and  it's  real  naughty  in  you  to 
say  so,  Charlie?" 

"Well,  then,  it  'might  have  been'  purely  acci- 
dental." 

"You  know  it  wasn't  on  purpose,  now  don't 
you?" 

"No,  I  don't  know  it.  But,  then,  as  they  say  in 
law,  we  put  the  best  construction  on  the  matter, 


46     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

and  say  it  was  accidental.  But  still  you  may 
have  fallen " 

"No,  but  I  didn't,"  she  exclaimed  with  a  stamp 
of  her  little  foot,  "and  it's  real  mean  in  you  to 
say  so;  besides  it  was  you  who  frightened  my 
horse,  when  I  wasn't  looking  and  he  plunged  into 
the  river." 

"But  weren't  you  looking  at  me  all  the  while?" 

"Yes — No!"  she  exclaimed,  turning  her  head 
away  and  blushing. 

"Come  now,  Bertie,  honor  bright,  weren't 
you?" 

"I  won't  answer  you,  Charlie.  Because — it's 
none  of  your  business !" 

"That's  acknowledging  it,"  said  he,  laughing. 

"No,  it  isn't.  I  don't  know  why  you  want  to 
tease  me  about  falling  into  the  river.  But  then 
you  got  a  good  wetting,  and  lost  your  fish,  too," 
she  retorted  gleefully. 

"And  I  suppose,  that  was  good  also,"  said  he, 
smiling. 

"Yes,"  she  replied  archly,  "they  were  nice 
large  fish.  I  sent  the  boy  down  and  stole  them." 

"I've  no  doubt  of  that,  for  I  came  back  and 
looked  quite  a  while  for  them." 

"Oh,  I'm  glad  of  that,"  she  exclaimed,  clapping 
her  hands. 

"Glad  that  I  lost  the  fish  intended  for  my  sup- 
per?" 

"No,"  she  replied  demurely,  "that  I  had  them 
for  mine." 

"So,  then,  you  got  repaid  for  falling  into  the 
river?" 

"No,   I   didn't  fall  in  intentionally!"   she  ex- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        47 

claimed  with  a  pout  of  the  pretty  red  lips.  "But 
you  were  going  to  say  so,"  said  she  somewhat 
mollified,  "now  weren't  you?" 

"I  don't  know,  Pussie." 

"Yes,  you  were.  But  what  made  you  keep  out 
of  the  way  so  long?" 

"Oh,  because  I  didn't  know  what  a  charming 
little  lady  you  were." 

"Now,  none  of  your  compliments,  sir.  Tell 
me  really  what  the  reason  was?"  she  asked,  turn- 
ing her  large  liquid  black  eyes  up  to  his  face. 

"Why,  I've  told  you." 

"But  tell  me  the  true  reason.  Now,  honor 
bright." 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you;  because  I  heard  you  were 
a  thorough  coquette,  and  I  wasn't  anxious  to  play 
moth  to  your  candle." 

"Why,  who  told  you  such  naughty  things  about 
me?  And  you  didn't  believe  it?" 

"Yes,  of  course, 'how  could  I  help  it?" 

"But  you  don't  believe  it  now?" 

"Why,  certainly  not,  Bertie." 

At  this  moment  the  other  lovers  came  in  view. 

"Why,"  exclaimed  Miss  Merton,  "there's  Mr. 
Wilberton  and  May  coming  toward  us." 

uYes,  they  seem  to  be  enjoying  the  evening 
together." 

"Yes,"  replied  Bertie  demurely,  "I  wonder  if 
he's  telling  her  about  the  legality  of  being  out  in 
the  moonlight.  I  don't  think  he  looks  as  if  he 
were.  Does  he?" 

"I  do  not  know.  He  once  told  me,  it  wasn't 
legal  to  have  two  beaux  at  the  same  time!  I  in- 


48     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

formed  him  that  Congress  had  repealed  that  law 
long  ago." 

"But,  then,  you  wouldn't  want  two  beaux?" 

"Yes.  For  one  might  get  intoxicated  and  fall 
into  the  river.  Then,  if  I  only  had  one  lover, 
I'd  be  bankrupt." 

"Why,  that's  so,  and  it's  a  poor  rule  won't 
work  both  ways,  so  I  must  try  and  find  another 
sweetheart." 

"No ;  it's  illegal  for  a  man  to  have  two  strings 
to  his  bow." 

"I  don't  know.  Suppose  you  ask  Ned,  when 
he  comes  up.  He  looks  as  if  he  were  engaged 
in  a  legal  question,  doesn't  he?"  Landon  asked, 
laughing. 

"No;  he  looks  as  if  he  were  trying  to  solve  the 
problem  of  love." 

For  the  young  lawyer  had  dropped  his  arm 
about  Miss  Wentworth's  waist,  unconscious  that 
they  were  watched  by  the  others,  till  he  glanced 
toward  them,  then  his  arm  dropped  to  his  side. 

"There,"  said  Miss  Merton,  shyly  as  Mr. 
Wilberton's  arm  dropped  from  May's  waist, 
"he's  solved  the  problem." 

"Do  you  think  so?  Perhaps  they  were  only 
flirting." 

"No,  May  never  flirts;  she's  too  honest  for 
that.  May  is  a  true,  darling  girl,  and  I  love 
her  better  than  anybody  else  in  the  world,  ex- 
cept papa  and " 

"And  me,"  said  the  Doctor,  laughing. 

"How  do  you  know,  I  was  going  to  say  that? 
What  an  egotistical  fellow?" 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        49 

"But  that's  what  you  were  going  to  say. 
Wasn't  it,  Pussie?" 

"Why,  sir,  how  conceited  you  are.  But  isn't 
it  time  to  turn  homeward?" 

When  Wilberton  and  Miss  May  had  passed 
them,  the  former  said: 

"I  think  your  pretty  cousin  is  caught  at  last. 
He  looks  down  on  her  as  if  he  owned  her,  and," 
he  added,  "nearly  as  much  as  you  do  me." 

The  pretty  blonde  blushed;  the  hot  blood 
mantled  her  fair  face,  as  she  answered  shyly: 
"I  thought  it  was  you  who  owned  me?" 

"I  think,"  he  replied,  as  his  arm  resumed  its 
former  position,  "the  ownership  is  mutual.  Isn't 
it,  May?" 

"Yes,  I  think  so,"  she  answered  archly. 

As  Dr.  Landon  and  Miss  Bertie  were  part- 
ing at  her  father's  house,  she  said:  "I  shall  be 
at  the  laboratory  to-morrow.  I  want  to  see  you 
analyze  those  new  minerals; — farewell." 

"Vale!"  said  he,  as  he  kissed  his  hand  to  her. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  CHEMICAL  LABORATORY. 

In  the  chemist's  wondrous  laboratory! 
What  a  weird  mystery  seems  to  dwell 
About  those  many  shaped  glasses  and  bottles; 
And  what  curious  stories  they  could  tell ! 

The  afternoon  of  the  next  day  was  clear  and 
bright,  and  Miss  Merton — as  she  tripped  through 
the  gate  and  up  the  graveled  walk  that  !ed  to  the 
College — thought  it  a  very  pleasant  day;  the  air 


50     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

seemed  so  fresh  and  light,   that  she   felt  as  if 
thrown  into  some  fairy  land. 

The  University  buildings — three  in  number — 
stood  on  a  low  hill,  commanding  a  view  of  the 
surrounding  country.  The  middle  and  largest 
building  was  used  as  an  academical  department, 
containing  the  lecture  rooms  and  Professor's  of- 
fices. It  was  a  huge,  brick  house,  two  stories  in 
height,  with  numerous  running  roses  clambering 
up  its  broad  walls  and  hanging  festoon-like 
over  the  broad  pediments  above  the  windows. 
The  edifice  on  the  right  of  this  one  was  the  Col- 
lege museum  and  library;  while  the  stone  build- 
ing, standing  in  the  midst  of  a  garden,  with  a 
bright  green  lawn  between  it  and  the  road,  was 
the  Medical  College.  At  the  left  of  these  build- 
ings were  the  lodging  and  dining  houses  of  the 
students.  Miss  Merton  went  up  the  stone  steps 
and,  entering  the  hall,  ran  up  the  stairs.  The 
College  halls  were  almost  deserted,  for,  it  being 
Saturday,  but  few  students  were  in  the  building, 
and  the  first  person  she  met  was  the  janitor,  at 
the  head  of  the  stairs. 

"Is  Dr.  Landon  in  his  lecture-room?"  she 
asked. 

"No,  miss,  the  Professor  has  gone  to  the  ho£- 
pital,  with  a  class  of  students." 

"When  do  you  expect  him  back?" 

"He  may  be  here  at  any  moment.  He  usually 
gets  here  long  before  this  time." 

The  Professor's  hospital  was  four  miles  dis- 
tant, and  it  took  but  twenty  minutes  to  go  there 
by  the  railroad.  It  was  situated  about  two  miles 
from  the  city,  toward  the  village,  the  city  being 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        51 

nearly  six  miles  from  St.  Arlyle.  Miss  Merton 
turned  down  the  stairs  again,  and,  walking  out 
of  the  hall,  stood  on  the  massive  granite  steps 
looking  fresh  and  pretty,  all  unconscious  that  she 
was  in  full  view  of  the  young  Doctor,  who  was 
coming  up  the  hill  hidden  by  the  grove  of  trees. 
And  it  made  his  heart  beat  with  pride  to  see  how 
beautiful  she  looked.  Her  small  head — sur- 
mounted by  the  jaunty  velvet  hat,  with  its  long 
scarlet  plume  drooping  down  on  the  little  shoul- 
der— was  turned  slightly  from  him,  and  the  mass 
of  long  golden  curls  was  fastened  back  with  a 
blue  ribbon,  and  hung  nearly  down  to  her  waist. 
They  shone  in  the  summer  sunlight  like  threads 
of  gold.  Her  long  drooping  eyelashes  shaded 
the  lustrous  eyes,  and  her  little  mouth  was  pout- 
ing, all  unconscious  that  the  plump  red  lips 
looked  so  temptingly  pretty,  and  formed  a  dimple 
in  each  cheek.  Her  graceful  form  was  attired 
in  a  well-fitting  dress  of  light  grey,  fastened  at 
the  waist  with  a  scarlet  sash.  The  skirt  was 
swept  picturesquely  back  by  the  gentle  breeze, 
displaying  the  tips  of  two  plump  little  shoes.  The 
dress  was  cut  low  at  the  neck,  and  displayed  a 
throat  and  bosom  of  alabaster  whiteness,  one 
-h#>ft|iof  almost  snowy  clearness,  was  toying  with 
a  gold  locket,  while  the  other  hung  listlessly  by 
her  side. 

"Well,  Miss  Pussie,  have  I  kept  you  waiting?" 
asked  Dr.  Landon,  as  he  came  up  the  walk. 

"Oh,  no,  I  arrived  here  only  a  few  moments 
ago." 

He  dropped  his  arm  about  her,  and  they  went 
upstairs  together,  her  long  curls  sweeping 


52      THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

against  his  shoulder.  They  entered  the  labora- 
tory, a  very  large  and  high  room,  situated  in  the 
front  part  of  the  building,  and  commanding  -a 
beautiful  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  The 
floor  was  covered  by  a  light,  soft  carpet  and  the 
ceiling  was  handsomely  frescoed.  On  one  side  of 
the  apartment  was  built  a  huge  rosewood  cabinet 
reaching  half  way  across  the  large  room,  and 
extending  from  the  floor  nearly  to  the  ceiling, 
surmounted  by  a  heavy  cornice,  on  which  stood 
the  bust  and  figures  of  a  dozen  noted  chemists. 
It  contained  shelf  after  shelf,  all  closely  packed 
with  innumerable  minerals  of  every  size,  shape 
and  hue,  and  covered  by  glass  doors.  There 
were  literally  thousands  of  them  to  dazzle  the 
eye  with  their  gay  colors  and  beauty.  There 
were  to  be  seen  bright,  transparent  lexagonal 
quartz  crystals,  stalactites  of  lime,  resembling 
huge  cylindrical  icicles,  large  six-si decUblocks  of 
basalt,  so  that  they  looked  as  if  the^iad  formed 
in  a  mould,  cubic  and  octahedral  crystals  of  fluor- 
spar, and  glassy  crystal  feldspar.  One  shelf  was 
completely  filled  with  precious  stones  that  dazzled 
the  eye  with  their  brilliant  lustre  and  beautiful 
tints.  Among  these  were  sapphires  of  blue,  yel- 
low, violet  and  green  colors;  emeralds  of  yellow 
and  green;  tourmalines  of  blue,  violet,  green,  yel- 
low and  red;  topazes  of  blue,  yellow  and  red; 
garnets,  beryls,  turquoises,  amethysts,  variegated 
agates,  cornelian,  varieties  of  jasper^  and  many 
more,  too  numerous  to  mention.  Pijed  on  the 
other  shelves,  were  ores  of  gold,  silver,  lead, 
antimony,  arsenic,  bismuth,  copper,  iron,  man- 
ganese, quicksilver,  nickel,  cobalt,  etc.  Their 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        53 

colors  were  as  varied  as  rainbow  hue;  from  the 
white  quartz  glittering  all  over  with  gold  and  sil- 
ver^ to  the  blue  and  green  colors  of  carbonate  of 
copper,  and  the  crystaline  red  resinous  ores  of 
taugstate  of  lead.  Against  the  opposite  wall  stood 
another  glass  case  fully  as  large  as  the  one  al- 
ready mentioned.  It  was  closely  packed  with 
chemical  apparatus,  and  numbers  of  bottles,  filled 
with  solids  and  liquids,  of  every  color,  from 
which  came  that  peculiar,  agreeable  odor,  preva- 
lent in  all  laboratories  and  drug  shops.  Against 
the  other  walls  stood  several  book  cases  well 
filled  with  scientific  works;  and  in  the  middle  of 
the  room  stood  a  long  rosewood  table,  scattered 
over  in  picturesque  confusion  with  minerals  and 
chemical  apparatus.  In  the  centre  of  the  table 
was  a  balance  in  a  glass  case;  around  it  lay  glass 
tubes,  funnels,  flasks,  matrasses,  beakers,  re- 
torts, test  tubes,  etc. ;  while  near  these  stood  sev- 
eral spirit-lamps,  an  iron  stand,  crucibles,  stone 
mortars,  bell  glasses,  wash  bottles,  moulds,  and 
the  many  other  paraphernalia  of  a  chemist.  In 
one  angle  of  the  room  was  a  furnace  surrounded 
by  its  necessary  utensils. 

In  the  corner  by  the  window,  which  com- 
manded a  fine  view,  stood  a  large  walnut  desk, 
with  books,  papers,  and  minerals.  Among  the 
books  lying  on  the  desk  wSfpUre's  Dictionary  of 
Chemistry,  and  the  works  of  Moore  and  Byron. 

"Science  and  literature  mixed,"  he  said,  smil- 
ingly, as  Miss  Merton  stood  examining  the  sur- 
face of  the  desk. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "irrevocably,  mingled  like 


54     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

the  waters  of  rivers  and  sea.  But,  which  do  you 
love  the  better,  science  or  literature?" 

"It  would  be  hard  to  tell.  But  then  science 
could  make  no  progress  without  a  full  literature, 
or  language.  For  literature  is  the  record  of  the 
thoughts  of  the  mind  and  the  means  of  refining 
and  polishing  them.  Without  the  use  of  a  cor- 
rect language  all  the  arts  and  sciences  would  be 
in  a  wild,  chaotic  state.  Scientists  would  continu- 
ally misunderstand  each  other  and  endless  argu- 
ments would  ensue  upon  the  same  thing  expressed, 
only,  in  different  ways.  As  it  is,  words  or  sen- 
tences misunderstood  have  caused  the  squander- 
ing of  many  a  life  time  and  millions  of  dollars. 
It  has  been  estimated  by  an  Attorney  General  of 
the  United  States  that  this  country  pays  annu- 
ally over  twenty  million  of  dollars  for  the  abuse 
of  the  English  language  concerning  contract  leg- 
islation. Among  nations,  misunderstood  words, 
or  sentences  of  statesmen,  have  engendered 
deadly  hatred,  leading  to  the  clash  of  arms,  and 
the  destruction  of  an  almost  inestimable  amount 
of  property,  as  well  as  the  loss  of  millions  of 
human  lives.  These  mistakes  often  become  evi- 
dent to  the  combatants  when  too  late  to  be  recti- 
fied. 

"So  you  see  literature  is  the  treasure-house  of 
thought,  accumulated  through  bygone  ages,  where 
all  may  gather  the  beauties  of  language,  science 
or  art;  and  a  polished  literature  must  always  pre- 
cede science,  for  letters  are  its  foundation." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  smilingly,  "one  would  think 
you  an  enthusiast  in  literature  as  well  as  in  sci- 
ence. But  I  can  fully  understand  the  force  and 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        55 

truth  of  your  argument.  And  I  can  see  plainer 
the  deep  meaning  of  Cowper's  couplet: — 'Sa- 
cred Interpreter  of  human  thought,  how  few  re- 
spect or  use  thee  as  they  ought/  But  what  is  this 
ore?"  she  asked,  taking  up  a  mineral  that  lay  on 
the  desk. 

"It  is  loadstone,  an  iron  ore.  It  comes  from 
one  of  the  most  noted  iron  mines  of  the  world; 
not  celebrated  on  account  of  the  great  amount 
of  iron,  but  on  account  of  their  peculiar  property, 
that  of  magnetism." 

"And  where  are  the  mines  situated?" 
"They  are  on  the  Black  Sea,  near  the  ancient 
city  of  Magnesia,  which  in  ages  gone  by  was  the 
seat  of  government  and  oriental  splendor.  Mag- 
nesia is  but  a  short  distance  from  Constantinople, 
which  was  the  capital  of  the  Byzantine  Empire — 
the  last  vestige  of  the  great  Roman  government 
to  decay.  Being  the  last  resort  of  Roman  civil- 
ization, men  of  science  and  letters  naturally  con- 
gregated there.  This  peculiar  and  wonderful 
property  of  the  ore — that  of  magnetism  and 
polarity — soon  engaged  their  attention.  Thus  the 
name  magnetism  was  given  to  this  strange  prop- 
erty of  the  ore — from  the  name  of  the  ancient 
city  of  Magnesia,  where  the  ore  was  first  found. 
But,  finally,  learned  men  had  to  leave  for  this 
being  the  last  Christian  stronghold  in  eastern 
Europe  the  Mohammedans  concluded  to  capture 
it.  So,  after  a  desperate  resistance,  in  which  the 
Christians  fought  with  a  bravery  never  excelled, 
and  a  desperation  akin  to  death,  their  king  rush- 
ing nobly  to  the  front  and  falling  in  the  thickest 
of  the  fray,  the  Mohammedans  captured  Con- 


156     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

stantinople.  Now,  Miss  Bertie,  can  you  tell  in 
what  century  the  downfall  of  the  Byzantine  Em- 
pire occurred?  Let  us  see  what  kind  of  an  his- 
torical scholar  you  are?'* 

"Yes,  I  can;  you  professors  think  none  but 
yourselves  know  anything." 

"But  when  did  this  event  occur?" 

"In  the  1 5th  century." 

"Yes,  you  did  know." 

"Oh,  I  do  know  a  little.  But  how  did  you 
get  this  ore  from  Magnesia?" 

"It  was  given  to  me  by  a  person  who  has  been 
traveling  in  Europe.  If  I  take  a  thin,  narrow 
piece  of  this  loadstone,  and  balance  it  on  a  point, 
it  will  take  a  direction  exactly  north  and  south. 
The  needle  of  the  compass,  as  you  know,  is  but 
an  arrow  of  steel,  one  end  of  which  is  rubbed 
with  loadstone,  or  as  mineralogists  call  it,  mag- 
netic iron  ore." 

"Is  this  loadstone  found  only  at  Magnesia?" 

"Oh,  no,  it  is  found  in  many  other  places.  It 
is  one  of  the  common  iron  ores  of  the  United 
States." 

"There  is  another  kind  of  magnet,  produced 
artifically.  Can  you  tell  me  how  it  is  made?" 

"It  is  made  with  a  galvanic  or  electric  battery. 
Isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  you're  right,  Pussie,"  said  he,  patting 
her  cheek. 

"I  do  know  a  little,  don't  I?"  she  asked  archly. 

"Yes,"  replied  he,  teasingly,  "a  very  little  bit." 

"You  ought  to  have  your  ears  boxed,"  said  she, 
slapping  his  ears,  gently. 

"There  is  another  curious  matter  about  these 


(A  Village  Mystery  and 
Through  War  to  Peace} 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        57 

mines,  near  Magnesia,  they  are  undoubtedly  the 
same  mentioned  in  the  Arabian  Nights  Entertain- 
ment which  it  calls  the  mountain  of  adamant. 
You  remember,  don't  you?" 

"Oh,  yes,  the  story  of  Sinbad  the  Sailor.  That 
when  the  ship  came  near  the  shore,  the  attrac- 
tion from  the  mountain  was  so  great  that  the  nails 
and  iron  in  the  ship  flew  with  violence  toward 
the  mountain,  and  then,  it  says,  the  ship  sank." 

"Yes,  you  remember  the  story,  and  curious  to 
say,  since  navigation  has  commenced  on  the  Black 
Sea,  many  ships  at  night  and  in  fogs  have  ran 
ashore  on  account  of  the  deflection  of  the  com- 
pass, by  magnetic  influence,  thus,  somewhat 
verifying  the  old  legend  of  the  Arabian  Nights." 

"It  is  very  strange,  that  we  should  have  a  par- 
tial realization  of  this  ancient  legend.  I've  heard 
that  the  Arabian  Nights  was  written  hundreds 
of  years  ago." 

"Yes,  it  is  at  least  over  two  thousand  years 
since  it  was  written.  For  it  was  nearly  as  popu- 
lar before  the  Christian  Era  as  it  is  now." 

"Oh,  I  did  not  suppose  it  to  be  near  so  old 
and  that  it  is  one  of  the  links  of  the  ancient  world 
with  the  modern." 

"Yes,  it  is  one  of  the  world's  oldest  books." 

"Why,  this  is  common  salt!"  exclaimed  Miss 
Merton,  picking  up  a  bottle  from  the  desk  con- 
taining the  salt.  "Do  you  use  it  in  chemical 
manipulations?" 

"Oh,  yes,  it  is  a  very  useful  chemical.  Can 
you  tell  me  of  what  elements  salt  is  composed? 
Oh,  you  can't.  So  you  don't  know  even  a  little 
bit  this  time,  Pussie. 


58     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Salt  is  composed  of  two  deadly  poisons.  But 
when  these  two  are  chemically  united,  they  be- 
come inert,  that  is,  lose  their  poisonous  proper- 
ties, and  we  may  eat  them  with  impunity." 

"It  is  a  curious  phenomenon,  isn't  it,  Charlie?" 

"Yes,  but  salt  is  not  the  only  mixture  of  two 
poisons  that  become  inert. 

"Salt  is  the  most  familiar  because  of  its  uni- 
versal use.  The  two  virulent  poisons,  opium  and 
belladonna,  counteract  each  other.  I  know  of 
a  case  in  which  a  man  took  an  ounce  of  laudanum, 
and  its  poisonous  effects  were  counteracted  by 
the  other  toxical  drug,  belladonna,  and  the  man's 
life  was  saved. 

"As  I  said  before,  salt  is  composed  of  two 
virulent  poisons,  chlorine  and  sodium,  thirty-five 
parts  of  the  former  to  twenty-three  of  the  latter. 
That  brilliant  white  metal  that  I  showed  you  in 
the  glass  case  is  sodium.  And  chlorine  is  a 

S-eenish  gas — the  name  being  derived  from  the 
reek  word  Chloros,  meaning  green." 

"Oh,  yes,  I've  seen  the  gas  produced." 

"Then  you  know  how  it  appears." 

"Yes,  Dr.  Charlie,  but  what  is  this,  in  this  jar." 

"That  is  sea  water,  taken  from  the  ocean,  for 
the  purpose  of  analyzing  it." 

"Do  you  know  how  much  salt  sea  water  usually 
contains?" 

"Yes,  it  contains  about  a  pound  and  a  half." 

"No,  you're  wrong,  Pussie." 

"Ami?" 

"Yes;  it  contains  two  and  a  half  pounds  to 
every  hundred  pounds  of  fluid  mixture.  Do  you 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        59 

know  of  anything  else  the  sea  almost  always  con- 
tains?" 

"Oh,  yes,  it  contains  iodine,  and  I  believe,  also 
bromine." 

"Yes,  good;  and  it  also  contains  silver  in  so- 
lution." 

"I  did  not  think  that,  but  I  suppose  it  is  in 
small  quantities." 

"Yes,  chemists  have  analyzed  the  waters  of 
almost  innumerable  parts  of  the  ocean,  and  they 
find  by  a  careful  computation  that  the  ocean  can- 
not hold  less  than  two  millions  of  tons  of  silver, 
in  solution,  and  a  grain  of  gold  to  every  ton  of 
water.  It's  a  good  deal  of  silver,  isn't  it,  Ber- 
tie?" 

"Yes,  truly  wonderful." 

"Now,  Pussie,  can  you  tell  me  what  gives  the 
green  color  to  the  ocean?" 

"No,  I  cannot." 

"It  is  caused  by  dissolved  copper  floating  in 
it.  Did  you  ever  notice  that  some  seas  or  oceans 
are  green,  while  others  are  quite  blue?" 

"Yes,  quite  often,  so  that  one  could  almost  see 
where  the  green  and  blue  come  together;  they 
somewhat  resemble  two  fields  of  green  grass  and 
blue  violets." 

"The  bluish  oceans  are  caused  by  ammonical 
salts  of  copper,  while  the  green  color  of  others 
is  caused  by  the  chloride  of  copper." 

"So,  then,  we  can  see  the  copper  in  the  water 
but  not  the  silver." 

"Yes,  for  it  gives  a  bright  color  to  the  water, 
just  as  Miss  Bertie  does  in  a  crowd." 


6o     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Now,  sir,  none  of  your  compliments,  for  you 
once  said  I  was  a  coquette." 

"Yes,  but  I  was  a  naughty  fellow  then,  and 
I  didn't  know  what  I  was  talking  about.  I  was 
not  aware  then  that  you  were  the  grandest  little 
nuisance  in  the  world." 

"Now,  sir,  take  that,"  she  said,  gently  box- 
ing his  ears.  "But  why  can't  we  see  the  silver 
in  the  water?" 

"Because  it  is  in  an  invisible  state.  If  we  take 
an  ounce  of  silver  and  dissolve  it  in  nitric  acid, 
and  then  throw  it  into  a  bucket  of  water,  we  can- 
not see  a  particle  of  silver.  In  this  way  we  may 
dissolve  more  than  nine  pounds  of  silver  in  the 
bucket,  and  not  a  particle  will  be  visible  in  the 
water.  In  fact,  the  water  will  be  as  clear  to  our 
view  as  before  putting  in  the  silver." 

"Oh,  I  see  now  why  the  silver  is  not  visible," 
she  replied. 

"We  may  show  in  the  laboratory  how  the  sea 
is  colored  by  dissolving  a  few  pieces  of  copper 
in  an  acid,  and  then  throwing  it  into  a  bowl  of 
water;  the  liquid  will  immediately  become  a 
bright  green.  If  we  then  add  hartshorn,  or  aqua- 
ammonia,  we  will  have  a  miniature  bluish  sea — 
or  rather,  bluish  purple.  But  it  is  time  to  go 
home,  is  it  not,  Bertie?" 

"Yes,  I  did  not  think  it  was  so  late,"  she  an- 
swered, looking  at  her  watch.  "The  afternoon 
has  passed  very  quickly  and  pleasantly." 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        61 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

GLEATON'S  VISIT  TO  THE  GHOST. 

"On  a  sudden,  shrilly  sounding, 

Hideous  yells  and  shrieks  were  heard; 
Then  each  heart  with  fear  confounding— 
A  sad  troop  of  ghost  appeared." 

Weeks  and  months  glided  by,  but  the  phantom 
still  held  his  quarters  in  the  old  Haunted  House 
on  the  hill.  On  moonlight  nights,  or  on  dark, 
dismal  ones,  the  weird,  mystic  colored  lights  are 
ever  seen  to  float  from  the  spirit  window.  The 
terrible  demon  of  the  fiery  world  here  seemed  to 
hold  his  wild  carnival  with  the  grim  spectres  of 
the  infernal  regions.  Often,  all  night  the  bright 
lights  gleamed  from  the  window;  but  they  always 
disappeared  when  the  first  beams  of  day  burst 
in  the  east;  as  if  the  monster  hated  the  daylight 
for  his  ghastly  work. 

As  the  old  house  stood  on  a  hill  the  colored 
lights  that  burst  from  its  window  shone  as  a 
beacon  to  the  surrounding  country;  and  many 
were  the  hideous  stories  told  by  belated  travelers 
of  the  strange  phantoms  seen  floating  in  the  col- 
ored flames.  Superstitious  people  of  the  village 
long  since  agreed  that  the  house  was  the  abode 
of  spectres.  And  the  more  incredulous  persons, 
who  had  been  loth  to  believe  in  the  supernatural, 
had  at  last  confessed  that  there  was  something 
beyond  their  comprehension,  though  they  had 


62     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

made  many  efforts  to  discover  the  mystery.  The 
question,  "Is  there  a  ghost  in  the  old  house  ?" 
was  no  longer  asked,  for  it  was  an  admitted  fact 
that  the  house  was  haunted. 

The  strange  story  of  the  village  ghosts  spread 
to  the  city,  and  many  came  from  there,  return- 
ing wonderstruck. 

Among  the  last  of  the  villagers  to  believe  that 
the  house  was  haunted  was  Thomas  Gleaton; 
though  he  was  half  convinced  that  there  was 
something  unearthly  about  the  strange  beings,  he 
wished  to  be  farther  satisfied  and  determined 
to  visit  the  spectral  scene  and  see  more.  His 
friends  tried  to  dissuade  him  from  this  rash  act, 
but  he  was  determined.  He  tried  to  induce  his 
boon  companions,  Johnson  and  Anderson,  to  ac- 
company him,  but  they  had  no  further  curiosity 
in  that  direction — they  were  satisfied.  Those  ter- 
rible shrill  shrieks,  as  if  of  some  lost  soul  in  tor- 
ment, and  those  mystic  flames  that  ever  shone  at 
night,  struck  an  indescribable  terror  that  nothing 
earthly  could  cause. 

The  village  had  become  so  noted  on  account 
of  these  spectral  scenes  that  in  the  neighboring 
country  it  had  almost  lost  its  name  of  St.  Arlyle 
and  was  known  as  the  Phantom  Village.  After  a 
while  it  became  so  that  children,  women  and  even 
men  went  into  the  street  after  dark  with  a  feel- 
ing of  dread,  lest  they  should  meet  this  minion 
of  Pluto.  Several  persons  in  passing  the  Haunted 
House  just  at  day-break  had  seen  the  spectre  leave 
it,  cross  the  garden  and  approach  the  gate  which 
flew  open  before  his  touch  like  the  magical  door 
of  the  secret  cave  of  the  Forty  Thieves  in  the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        63 

Arabian  Nights  before  the  charmed  word  "Se- 
same." Its  lock  had  long  grown  rusty,  and  no 
key  had  been  fitted  to  it  for  more  than  a  quarter 
of  a  century,  yet  it  swung  back  on  its  rusty  hinges 
at  the  spirit's  mystical  touch. 

The  demon  was  described  by  those  who  had 
seen  him  to  be  terrible.  Wild  tales  were  told  of 
his  hideous  aspect — the  clouds  of  infernal  vapor 
that  surrounded  him,  the  saucer-shaped  eyes,  sur- 
rounded by  masses  of  tangled  grey  hair;  the  claw- 
like  hands  and,  some  even  added,  a  tail  and  horns. 
In  fact,  he  was  described  as  one  of  the  nine  de- 
mons of  the  Infernal  Empire,  of  which  Beelze- 
bub is  the  sovereign,  so  radiantly  painted  in  myth- 

thology. 

******* 

It  was  a  dark,  windy  night  when  Thomas  Glea- 
ton  entered  the  garden  of  the  Haunted  House. 
The  walls  were  dark  and  gloomy,  except  for  the 
lurid  blue  light  that  gleamed  from  the  spectre 
window,  shining  forth  Argus  like,  as  if  watching 
over  the  pandemonium  of  death.  Blue  and 
ghostly  were  the  gleams  it  cast  on  tree,  shrub  and 
marble  statues,  looking  deathlike  in  the  gloomy 
shadows  that  lay  between.  As  he  passed  along 
the  rank  growth  of  bushes  and  vines  his  wild 
imagination  fancied  every  shadow  to  be  some 
spirit  of  the  infernal  regions. 

The  clock  in  the  church  tower  had  toled  the 
hour  of  eleven,  and  as  he  walked  up  the  stone 
steps  he  saw  the  last  light  in  the  village  disap- 
pear. Alone  in  the  darkness  he  muttered: 

"Now  to  unravel  the  mystery,  or  to  be  in  com- 
pany with  the  spectres  of  Hell?7' 


64     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Though  was  his  heart  beating  wildly  with  a 
strange  terror,  and  his  brain  on  fire  with  excite- 
ment, he  went  to  work  filing  off  the  staple  that 
held  the  iron  shutters  of  the  window.  Though 
he  worked  rapidly,  the  bell  struck  sharply  the 
hour  of  midnight  ere  he  cut  the  staple  in  two.  He 
felt  a  strange  terror  creep  over  him  as  he  stood 
there  at  midnight. 

Noiselessly  raising  the  window  he  sprang  into 
the  hall.  Silence,  except  now  and  then  the  wild, 
demoniacal  shrieks  that  echoed  and  reechoed 
through  every  part  of  the  building,  almost  stag- 
nating his  blood. 

Slowly  and  tremblingly  he  felt  his  way  up 
stairs  in  the  Egyptian  darkness.  Occasionally 
the  piercing  and  terrible  yells  held  him  spell- 
bound. He  leaned  pale  and  trembling  against  the 
balusters  for  support.  When  they  died  away  he 
would  press  bravely  on  again.  At  last  he  reached 
the  head  of  the  stairs,  but  was  again  checked  by 
those  wild,  unearthly  screams  following  each 
other  in  rapid  succession  till  his  heart  seemed  to 
stand  still  and  his  head  to  swim  like  that  of  a 
drunken  man,  while  he  leaned  against  the  wall 
almost  unconscious.  But  he  was  a  man  that  noth- 
ing earthly  could  daunt;  so  when  the  sounds  died 
away,  and  he  had  recovered  somewhat  from  the 
stupor,  he  pushed  on  toward  the  haunted  room. 
Tediously  feeling  his  way  in  the  gloom  he  came 
in  view  of  a  light  which  shone  from  the  other 
end  of  the  hall.  Gradually  he  approached,  his 
heart  beating  wildly  with  fear.  Looking  through 
the  opening,  he  saw  huge  masses  of  flame  rolling 
from  an  immense  cauldron  in  the  centre  of  tlu 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        65 

room,  whence  issued  ever  and  anon  those  hideous 
yells,  as  if  of  lost  spirits  in  torment. 

He  could  distinguish  the  weird  demon,  stand- 
ing amid  the  flames,  his  long  hair  and  grizzly 
beard  hanging  about  the  leering  face  like  a  pall. 
His  countenance  was  sallow,  and  around  his  thin 
lips  played  a  smile  of  devilish  satisfaction,  while 
his  eyes  were  lit  up  with  an  awful  twinkle,  as  he 
gazed  into  the  seething,  roaring  cauldron — as  if 
gloating  over  the  anguish  that  he  was  causing 
some  condemned  spirit!  It  was  a  scene  Gleaton 
could  never  forget  to  his  dying  day.  The  apart- 
ment was  filled  with  a  myriad  of  distorted  forms 
floating  about  in  mid  air,  their  faces  wearing  a 
look  of  terrible  anguish!  It  was  a  sad,  hideous 
spectacle,  having  its  horrors  augmented  by  the 
arch-fiend  pushing  a  haggard  form  into  the  burn- 
ing pit,  followed  by  terrible,  blood-curdling  yells 
and  groans. 

Almost  unconsciously,  Gleaton  approached  the 
fearful  scene,  when  suddenly  there  arose  before 
him  a  huge  form  as  if  it  came  out  of  the  solid 
stone  wall.  The  spectre  was  as  black  as  mid- 
night, his  eyes  shone  like  balls  of  fire,  and  were 
distorted  by  rage  at  the  encroachment.  'Ere 
Gleaton  could  move,  the  fiend's  black  hand  de- 
scended upon  his  shoulder  with  a  grasp  that  felt 
as  if  it  would  crush  the  bone,  and  the  next  moment 
he  was  hurled  with  a  terrible  force  down  the 
steps  into  the  gloom  of  the  hall.  Bruised  and 
bleeding,  Gleaton  drew  his  knife  and  staggered 
up  the  steps,  but  'ere  he  could  use  it  the  same 
black  form  rose  again  as  if  out  of  the  solid  stone 
and  in  greater  rage  than  before  hurled  him  back. 


66     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Human  nature  could  bear  no  more,  and  in  horror, 
with  but  one  idea — that  of  escape — he  staggered 
along  the  hall,  while  great  beads  of  cold  sweat 
ran  down  his  face.  He  had  groped  his  way  for 
some  distance  along  the  wall,  every  moment  ex- 
pecting to  feel  the  hot  breath  of  the  black  monster 
upon  his  cheek,  when  he  reached  another  hall, 
turning  into  which,  he  found  a  flight  of  stairs 
leading  to  the  floor  beneath.  He  felt  his  way 
down,  each  instant  expecting  the  vice-like  grip 
of  the  demon.  Reaching  the  foot,  he  turned  to 
the  left,  and  found  himself  in  a  huge  apartment 
dimly  lighted,  at  the  further  end.  The  magnifi- 
cence of  the  room  struck  him  with  such  wonder 
that  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  suddenly  been  thrown 
into  some  palace  of  wealth,  like  those  creations 
of  the  Arabian  Nights.  A  brilliant,  soft  carpet 
covered  the  floor  on  which  stood  beautifully 
carved  stands,  tables  and  desks,  while  along  the 
walls  were  scarlet-covered  chairs  and  sofas.  On 
the  walls  hung  many  paintings  in  gold  frames, 
representing  battle  scenes  and  days  of  chivalry. 
Between  the  seats  and  pictures  stood  large  cab- 
inets, and  book-cases  handsomely  formed  of  in- 
laid wood,  and  surmounted  by  marble  and  bronze 
statues.  The  ceiling  was  beautifully  frescoed 
with  paintings  of  by-gone  ages.  From  it  hung  a 
number  of  chandeliers,  their  long  glass  prisms 
glittering  like  icicles  in  some  wondrous  cave.  He 
entered  the  room,  and  found  its  magnificence  al- 
most beyond  description.  He  stopped  before  a 
large  cabinet  with  glass  doors.  Here  a  sight  met 
his  gaze  that  held  him  spell-bound  with  wonder. 
The  case  contained  hundreds  of  precious  stones, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        67 

of  every  hue  and  color,  that  danced  and  glittered 
in  the  dim  lamplight  like  stars  at  midnight.  He 
stood  for  some  time  lost  in  wonder  at  their  beauty 
and  splendor!  "Here,"  he  thought,  "are  dia- 
monds, topazes,  emeralds  and  rubies  by  the  hand- 
ful. Here  is  wealth  almost  beyond  one's  power 
to  calculate !  Probably,  millions  of  dollars  worth 
of  precious  stones  lying  full  in  view?"  As  he 
moved  onward,  his  wonder  grew  even  greater, 
for  he  found  cabinet  after  cabinet  filled  with  valu- 
able stones  and  minerals  glittering  with  gold  and 
silver. 

"This,"  he  continued,  "must  be  the  wondrous 
abode  of  the  good  Genii,  while  above,  Beelzebub 
and  his  imps  hold  their  wild  carnival." 

He  walked  a  few  paces  further  on,  when  sud- 
denly a  hideous  skeleton  stood  before  him!  Its 
fleshless  bones,  white  and  marrowless,  and  the 
bony  sockets  of  its  eyes  seemed  lit  with  a  strange 
fire,  the  bony  jaws,  half  open,  showing  two  mas- 
sive rows  of  grinning  teeth !  The  sight  struck  an 
indescribable  terror  into  his  very  soul.  "This," 
he  thought,  "is  the  skeleton  of  the  former  owner 
of  the  house,  who  was  foully  murdered."  He 
stood  in  terror  gazing  at  it,  when,  suddenly,  the 
skeleton  raised  a  bony  arm,  and  pointed  with  a 
gory  finger  toward  the  door !  He  turned  his  gaze 
in  the  direction,  and  beheld  in  horror  the  large 
form  of  the  black  fiend!  His  heart  beat  wildly, 
his  head  swam  with  fright,  his  legs  gave  way 
under  him,  and  he  fainted.  How  long  he  lay  thus 
he  could  not  tell,  but  it  must  have  been  for  some 
time,  for  when  he  gained  consciousness  he  was 
cold  and  stiff,  only  having  power  enough  to  drag 


68      THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

his  limbs  along  as  he  hugged  the  wall  for  sup- 
port. Dragging  himself  out  of  the  apartment, 
then  along  the  hall  into  another,  at  the  end  of 
which  he  saw  with  joy  the  light  shining  through 
the  window  by  which  he  had  entered,  he  slowly 
crawled  toward  it  with  all  his  strength.  It  seemed 
hours  ere  he  reached  it  and  sprang  with  a  cry 
of  joy  into  the  garden,  just  as  the  earliest  sunlight 
was  flooding  the  village.  He  lay  there,  wita  a 
feeling  of  gladness  at  his  escape  from  the  demons. 
He  was  so  weak  from  terror,  and  the  rough  usage 
he  had  received,  that  it  was  with  difficulty  he 
could  struggle  to  his  feet.  He  finally  reached 
home,  though  it  was  a  very  severe  task  on  his 
failing  strength. 

Gleaton  was  so  prostrated  after  this  terrible 
adventure  that  he  was  unable  to  leave  his  bed 
for  more  than  a  week.  The  first  few  days  he 
was  delirious,  continually  muttering  about  the 
scenes  he  had  beheld,  often  crying  out  in  hor- 
ror, "take  them  away." 

The  next  day  the  whole  town  was  talking  about 
Gleaton's  visit  to  the  Archfiend's  den,  and  many 
were  the  conjectures  and  wild  stories  told.  But 
the  blacksmith  was  too  ill  to  give  a  lucid  account 
of  his  adventures. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        69 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  VILLAGE  VANDALS. 

One  glaring  chaos  and  wild  heap  of  wit. — Pope. 

Rare  compound  of  oddity,  frolic  and  fun, 

Who  relished  a  joke  and  rejoiced  in  a  pun. — Goldsmith. 

At  one  extremity  of  the  village  of  St.  Arlyle, 
near  the  river,  stood  the  tailor-ship,  a  small 
wooden  building.  Here  on  Saturday  nights  and 
sometimes  oftener,  the  Vandal  Club  or  Vandal 
Congress  met.  The  club  was  composed  of  the 
boys  of  the  village,  headed  by  the  town  wits,  who 
held  their  positions  by  common  consent,  as,  one 
by  one  the  rising  generation  left  it,  leaving  their 
places  to  be  filled  by  new  recruits.  They  were  a 
wild,  jolly  set  always  ready  for  a  frolic.  Many 
of  the  sober  villagers  had  been  members  in  early 
manhood,  including  Dr.  Landon. 

Here  were  discussed  the  questions  and  myster- 
ies of  the  town,  and  the  news  of  the  day  dissemi- 
nated. Nothing  occurred  but  it  was  told  and 
passed  upon  in  the  tailor-shop.  It  was  the  centre 
of  gossip,  and  the  Vandals  made  it  a  rule  to  know 
more  about  every  one  than  the  person  himself. 
All  kinds  of  mischief  was  hatched  and  plots 
formed,  although  the  Vandals  always  pretended 
to  be  ignorant  of  them.  They  were  a  motley 
crowd  composed  of  many  different  characters. 
Some  were  nomadic  and  generally  wandered 
about  spending  their  money  recklessly  until  they 


70    tTHE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

found  themselves  on  the  ragged  edge  of  despair. 
It  was  then  they  sought  board  and  lodging  at  the 
tailor-shop  till  ready  for  another  campaign. 
Though  many  had  taken  quarters  at  the  shop, 
none  were  ever  known  to  pay;  yet  the  place  was 
never  without  boarders.  The  tailor,  Mr.  Elton, 
received  them  not  even  expecting  thanks  in  return. 
He  was  noted  as  the  best-natured  man  in  the 
country — nothing  disturbed  him.  He  took  life  as 
it  came,  his  mind  ever  calm,  even  when  cheated  or 
treated  meanly.  He  regarded  things  philosophic- 
ally and  boarded  the  Vandals  year  after  year, 
never  asking  whether  or  not  they  were  grateful. 
And  they  took  their  quarters  there  without  as 
much  as  asking,  for  the  custom  of  years  had  given 
them  that  privilege. 

It  was  Saturday  night.  The  Vandals  were  con- 
gregated in  the  tailor-shop  to  discuss  news  of  the 
village  and  form  plans  for  future  fun  or  mischief. 
The  building  consisted  of  two  large  rooms.  The 
first  apartment  was  used  as  a  shop  and  work- 
room, while  the  second  was  employed  as  an  eat- 
ing, cooking,  sleeping  and  store-room.  It  was  in 
this  room  that  the  Vandals  were  assembled.  The 
club,  when  full,  consisted  of  about  twenty  mem- 
bers. They  were  seated  in  various  parts  of  the 
room,  on  barrels,  boxes,  chairs,  benches,  and  the 
two  beds  held  occupants.  Gleaton  the  witty 
blacksmith,  and  his  two  boon  companions,  Dave 
Johnson  and  Bill  Anderson,  were  seated  on  the 
table,  while  five  others  occupied  a  bench  in  a 
corner.  Four  reclined  on  the  beds,  and  the  rest 
were  arranged  around  the  stove.  Among  these 
latter  was  Dick  Lex,  the  drunken  lawyer,  and 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        71 

Jerry  Marshall,  editor  of  the  village  newspaper. 
Marshall  was  the  town  poet,  being  always  ready 
to  produce  poetry  on  any  occasion.  It  was  not  al- 
ways original,  for  lines  could  often  be  found 
copied  from  Shakespeare,  Byron,  Shelley,  Pope, 
Moore,  and  others.  But  he  was  ready  with  an 
apt  quotation  and  seemed  to  have  learned  half 
the  poets  by  heart.  He  was  a  brilliant  man,  and 
spoke  fluently  half  a  dozen  languages.  At  twenty 
years  of  age  he  was  graduated  from  Dublin  Uni- 
versity, and  began  the  study  of  law.  After  nearly 
two  years  he  met  with  a  sad  calamity  in  the  death 
of  his  sister.  From  that  day  he  took  to  drinking, 
and  fell  a  victim  to  the  intoxicating  bowl.  Of 
her  death  he  seldom  spoke;  but  those  about  him 
learned  that  she  committed  suicide  by  taking 
poison  after  being  seduced  under  promise  of  mar- 
riage, and  that  Marshall  had  challenged  her  be- 
trayer. Instead  of  accepting  the  challenge,  the 
villain  had  the  brother  of  his  victim  arrested  and 
lodged  in  jail.  After  his  release,  Marshall  left 
his  native  country  to  become  a  wanderer.  After 
traveling  from  one  country  to  another  and  losing 
position  after  position,  through  his  dissipated 
habits,  he  found  himself  in  Turkey;  he  soon 
learned  that  language,  and  gained  a  high  position 
in  their  service,  but  soon  lost  it,  through  drunken- 
ness. From  Turkey  he  went  to  Mexico,  and 
understanding  the  Spanish  language,  he  joined  in 
with  the  affairs  of  the  state.  In  that  insurrection- 
ary country  he  was  sometimes  placed  in  political 
positions  when  his  party  was  successful.  He  next 
went  to  California,  and  after  drifting  about  like 


72     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

a  cork  on  a  wave,  he  took  up  his  residence  in 
St.  Arlyle. 

The  chairman  of  the  club  occupied  a  stool  in 
the  corner.  He  said: 

"The  roll  has  been  called,  and  we  have  con- 
cluded to  dispense  with  the  reading  of  the  minutes 
of  the  last  session.  The  next  order  of  business, 
is  information  by  Mr.  Gleaton,  concerning  his 
visit  to  the  ghost !  Mr.  Gleaton  has  the  floor." 

"Yes,  tell  us  about  it,"  cried  half  a  dozen 
Vandals. 

"What  did  Old  Nick  look  like?  Did  he  have 
horns  and  a  tail?  Was  his  Satanic  Majesty  armed 
with  a  pitch-fork?"  and  many  other  like  questions 
assailed  him  from  all  sides. 

"Well,"  said  Gleaton,  amid  a  death-like  silence, 
during  which  every  face  was  turned  eagerly  to- 
ward him,  "there  wasn't  much  fun  in  my  visit  to 
the  Devil's  den!" 

"He  must  have  used  you  pretty  roughly  to  lay 
you  up  for  a  week,"  suggested  Stanton. 

"Yes,  he  made  it  extremely  lively  for  a  while 
during  my  stay.  A  little  too  lively  to  be  com- 
fortable." 

"What  did  he  say  to  you?" 

"Oh,  he  was  quite  talkative,  said  he  was  glad 
to  see  a  friend  from  this  world,  and  asked  me 
about  my  health.  'But,'  continued  he,  'you  needn't 
have  come  hunting  around  for  me,  you'll  get  a 
taste  of  hell  and  brimstone  soon  enough.'  I  told 
him,  I  wasn't  particularly  anxious  for  a  taste  of 
hell. 

"  'Oh,  no,'  said  his  Satanic  Majesty,  'they  never 


(A  Village  Mystery  and 
Through  War  to  Peace) 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        73' 

are  when  they  once  feel  my  roasting  machine. 
It's  a  big  improvement  on  your  earthly  furnaces  1' 

"I  informed  him  that  I  had  no  doubt  it  was." 

"But,  how  does  the  Devil  look?"  asked  Ander- 
son. 

"He's  a  rough-looking  old  fellow,  rigged  out 
with  a  tail,  horns,  and  necessary  appendages." 

"You  know,"  suggested  Marshall: 

"Spirits  freed  from  mortals  laws,  with  ease, 
Assume  what  shape  and  sex  they  please." 

"Well,"  continued  the  blacksmith,  "his  Satanic 
Majesty  said,  4Mr.  Gleaton,  it's  about  time  to  go.' 
But  I  demurred.  Then  he  started  the  ball  to  roll- 
ing by  giving  me  a  kick  in  the  rear.  Then  a  lot 
of  sub-devils  sprang  out  of  the  gloom,  and  used 
more  boot-leather!  They  kicked  me  through 
half  a  dozen  glass  doors !  And  then  through 
several  wooden  ones!  I  tell  you,  boys,  it  was 
particularly  lively,  until  I  reached  the  street.  I 
couldn't  sit  down  on  anything  harder  than  a 
feather  pillow  for  more  than  a  week." 

"You  must  have  felt  sort  of  annihilated,  kind 
of  Vandalized!"  remarked  Marshall. 

"Yes,  and  if  any  of  you  don't  believe  it,  you  can 
try  it  for  yourselves." 

"I  wish  to  make  a  motion,  Mr.  Chairman," 
said  Johnson,  arising  to  his  feet. 

"Proceed,  Mr.  Johnson." 

"Resolved:  That  Thomas  Gleaton  did  a  brave 
act  in  visiting  the  Haunted  House;  and  deserves 
the  thanks  of  this  congress." 

They  were  both  unanimously  carried. 


74     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"The  next  order  of  business,"  said  the  chair- 
man, uis  the  report  of  the  committee  on  marriage. 
The  wedding  of  William  Glass  to  Nellie  Pitcher." 

"Mr.  Chairman,"  said  Ned  Stanton,  "a  ma- 
jority of  the  committee  is  favorable  to  the  mar- 
riage." 

"The  question  is  now  open  for  discussion." 

"I  tell  you,  boys,"  said  a  member  sitting  near 
the  stove,  "it  was  about  time  Nellie  got  married; 
she  was  getting  pretty  well  along  in  years.  And 
then  Bill  Glass  was  a  slow  sort  of  a  fellow;  if  he 
hadn't  got  Nellie,  he'd  never  got  married  in  the 
world." 

"Yes,  it's  a  good  thing,"  suggested  Gleaton, 
"for  Bill  will  stick  to  Nellie's  father  in  his  old 
age." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Frank  Mere- 
dith, the  medical  student,  "Bill  was  always  a  lazy 
fellow." 

"That's  just  the  reason,  he'll  stick  by  the  old 
man,  he'll  be  too  tired  to  leave,"  answered  the 
blacksmith.  "But  still,"  he  continued,  "there's 
a  good  deal  of  work  in  Bill.  But  mighty  little 
of  it  will  ever  come  out." 

"But,"  said  a  Vandal  rising,  "I'm  opposed  to 
losing  a  Pitcher  for  a  Glass.  It's  retrograding, 
not  advancing." 

"Yes,  it  is  true,"  replied  Marshall,  "that  a 
Pitcher  is  changed  to  a  Glass.  But,  then,  we'll  not 
complain,  there'll  soon  be  enough  little  glasses  to 
fill  the  pitcher  once  again." 

"It  has  been  moved  and  seconded,"  said  the 
presiding  officer,  "that  the  marriage  of  William 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        75 

Glass  to  Nellie  Pitcher  is  a  good  thing,  and  ought 
to  be  endorsed  by  the  Vandal  congress." 

"I  have,"  said  Dick  Lex,  uan  amendment  to 
offer.  It  is,  providing  the  marriage  produces 
enough  little  Glasses  to  fill  the  Pitcher  again." 

The  amendment  was  immediately  seconded  and 
carried.  The  whole  resolution  was  then  put  and 
carried,  though  there  were  several  dissenting 
voices. 

"Now,"  said  Marshall: 

"May  they  jog  along  easy,  o'er  life's  rugged  course, 
Or  the  next  thing  they'll  want,  will  be  a  divorce." 

"Then  they'd  feel  sort  of  annihilated,  kind  of 
Vandalized,"  suggested  a  member. 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  VANDAL  CLUB. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  in  the  club, 
broken  by  the  sudden  entrance  of  a  long  absent 
veteran  Vandal. 

"Hello,  Kelly  the  Pirate.  Hello!  Where've 
you  been  wandering  around?"  cried  a  dozen 
Vandals. 

"Been  tramping  out  West — migrating.  Seeing 
the  sights,  and  the  ilephant!" 

"You  look  kind  of  used  up,"  said  a  Vandal. 

"Yes,"  continued  Marshall,  "sort  of  annihil- 
ated, kind  of  Vandalized." 

"But  when  did  you  get  back?" 

"Got   home   yisterday,    just   in  time   for  the 


76     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

foight  at  the  Thunder  hotel,"  answered  the 
Pirate. 

Kelly  had  gained  the  soubriquet  of  the  Pirate, 
from  his  nomadic  mode  of  life  and  his  grasping 
nature.  He  was  a  wild,  rollicking  youth,  of 
about  twenty-two  years  of  age,  born  of  Irish 
parentage,  a  native  of  the  United  States,  but  still 
showing  his  progenitors  by  a  slight  Irish  brogue. 

"I  move,  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  a  Vandal  when 
the  assembly  had  greeted  the  latest  arrival,  "that 
the  congress  resolve  itself  into  a  committee  of 
investigation,  and  hear  the  evidence  concerning 
the  recent  fight  in  the  Thunder  hotel." 

The  motion  was  immediately  carried. 

The  first  witness  to  give  his  version  of  the 
affair  was  Kelly  the  Pirate. 

Amid  silence  the  Pirate  began:  "We  wuz  down 
at  the  Thunder  bar-room  las'  night,  and  Pate 
Pugnare,  of  Warin'  Cove,  wuz  there.  And  sez 
he:  'Me  name's  Pate  Pugnare,  and  I'm  on  the 
muscle  bigger'n  an  ilefant,  an'  while  I'm  in  St. 
Arlyle,  the  byes  have  got  to  behave  themselves. 
I'm  goin'  to  have  ordher  in  this  town,  ef  I  have  to 
clean  out  the  whole  insthitution. 

"While  Pate  wuz  a  gallantin  'round,  a  tootin' 
his  horn,  he  accidently  collided  wid  Big  Mike, 
and  Mike  het  him  a  belt  under  the  butt  of  the 
left  ear,  and  his  heels  shot  up  inter  the  air,  and 
his  cocoanut  came  in  contact  wid  a  chair  and  be- 
dad  he  finely  sat  down  lively  on  the  floor!  He 
got  up  and  wint  for  Mike,  but  Mike  floored  him 
agin !  But  he  got  on  his  fate  agin,  and  thin  they 
went  at  it  solid!  And  finely,  Pate  got  his  back 
toward  me,  and,  sez  I  to  meself,  'Kelly,  now's  yer 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        77 

chance  fur  fame  an'  glory!'  So  I  gub  him  a 
kick,  and  a  pelt  in  the  nape  of  the  nick,  an1  he  lit 
on  top  of  the  hot  sthove !  He  didn't  sthay  there 
long.  As  he  was  gitin'  up,  Ned  Stanton  smashed 
a  chair  over  his  head,  and  I  an'  another  feller, 
guve  him  a  couple  of  kicks,  and  he  caflumexed 
on  the  floor!  'Bout  thie  time,  one  of  Pate's 
friends  from  the  Cove,  hit  me  a  lively  one  in  the 
back,  and  I  shot  up  inter  th'  air  an'  sat  down  0:1 
the  sthove!  Begorra,  I  tell  yer,  I  didn't  think 
that  sthove  wuz  so  hot,  till  I  felt  it!  I  got  off 
the  sthove  an'  looked  around;  Jerry  Marshall 
an'  a  Cove  chap  were  wading  in  rid  hot!  'Bout 
this  time  a  lot  of  Cove  byes  arrived,  and  took 
a  chance  in  the  malay. 

"One  of  them  Cove  byes  smashed  me  in  the 
mouth,  another  kicked  me  in  the  stomick;  while 
another  chap  lifted  me  in  the  ribs.  Me  schull 
started  fur  the  floor,  an'  it  samed  like  as  ef  the 
floor  flew  up  and  mit  me.  Shure  an'  I  didn't 
care  a  darn  who  won  the  fight  after  that!" 

"You  felt,"  suggested  Marshall,  "sort  of  anni- 
hilated, kind  of  Vandalized!" 

"Yis,  yis,  exactly.  And  whin  I  got  up,  I  saw 
thim  a  totin'  Pate  out  on  a  door.  I  axed  'im 
how  he  liked  th'  programme?  Sez  he: 

1  'I  wuz  a  fightin'  galoot,  but  I'm  cleaned  out, 
cleaner'n  a  shot  gun !'  ' 

"And  then,"  said  Marshall,  "Pete  felt  sort  of 
annihilated,  kind  of  Vandalized!" 

Kelly  sat  down,  and  Marshall  obtained  the 
floor  and  began  his  description  of  the  fight: 

"We  were  congregated  in  the  Thunder  bar- 
room, discussing  the  topics  of  the  day,  when  Pete 


78      THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Pugnare  entered,  from  Waring  Cove.  He  began 
a  series  of  boasts,  to  the  effect  that  Sampson's 
fighting  qualities  were  nowhere  when  compared 
to  his  own.  He  was  an  elephant,  a  mammoth, 
a  megatherium,  in  fact,  a  regular  menagerie  com- 
bined in  one,  who  was  spoiling  for  a  fight !  Well, 
while  he  was  enlightening  the  boys  concerning  his 
bellicose  qualities,  he  ran  against  Big  Mike,  who 
gave  him  a  full  broadside  of  muscle  that  caused 
him  to  seat  himself  on  the  floor !  When  the  fight- 
ing rhinoceros  of  the  Cove  gained  his  equilibrium 
he  went  forward  to  battle  again.  While  Mike 
attacked  him  in  front,  Kelly  the  Pirate  opened 
fire  on  his  rear,  causing  him  to  sit  down  on  the 
stove.  But  the  extreme  heat  soon  radiated  him 
off,  and  he  came  forward  for  more  warfare.  And 
he  got  it!  Ned  Stanton  kicked  him  in  the 
stomach,  Mike  hit  him  in  the  mouth,  while  Kelly 
and  a  half  dozen  other  pirates  attacked  him  in- 
front  and  on  both  flanks. 
"I  felt  neutral,  for, 

'Those  who  in  quarrels  interpose, 
Must  often  wipe  a  bloody  nose/ 

till  one  of  Pete's  friends  fired  away  in  my  rear, 
then  I  became  suddenly  bellicose.  In  fact,  it 
gave  me  a  terrible  belligerent  feeling;  I  wanted 
to  go  to  war,  real  bad.  And  I  went!  I  saw  a 
small  Cove  man  standing  near  me,  so  I  hit  him 
a  blow  under  the  chin,  gave  him  a  kick  and  lifted 
him  out  of  the  door!  I  looked  out,  and  saw 
him  resting  in  a  mud-puddle.  After  that  I  had 
some  lively  engagements,  I  kept  reclining  on  the 
floor  and  getting  up  again!  As  Byron  says: 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        79 

"Twas  blow  for  blow,  disputing  inch  by  inch, 
For  one  would  not  retreat,  nor  t'other  flinch/ 

I  kept  on  fighting,  until  they  got  in  my  rear,  in 
front,  on  each  flank  and  poured  in  a  murderous 
fire,  and  then  as  the  poet  says : 

*I  curled  upon  the  floor, 

And   the   subsequent  proceedings, 

Interested  me  no  more!'" 

At  the  conclusion  of  Marshall's  remarks  Dick 
Lex  arose  and  moved, 

"Resolved:  That  St.  Arlyle  boys  deserve  the 
praise  of  the  Vandal  congress  for  whipping  the 
roughs  from  the  Cove." 

It  was  immediately  carried. 

"The  next  order  of  business,"  said  the  chair- 
man, "before  this  body,  is  courting. 

"Has  any  one  had  any  experience  on  or  perti- 
nent remarks  to  make  on  the  subject?" 

"Mr.  Chairman,"  said  Ned  Stanton,  the  law 
student,  "I've  had  some  experience  in  courting." 

"Mr.  Stanton  has  the  floor." 
^  "Well,"  began  Ned,  "I  fell  in  love  with 
Colonel  Johnson's  daughter,  and  I  called  quite 
often  to  see  her.  But  one  day  I  met  the  Colonel 
just  as  I  was  leaving  the  house,  and  he  put  an 
injunction  on  my  courting  by  informing  me  he 
didn't  want  me  fooling  around  there  any  more. 
But  I  soon  dissolved  the  injunction,  for  I  called 
on  Nellie  when  he  wasn't  around.  Then  the 
Colonel  went  to  see  the  judge  with  whom  I  am 
studying,  and  filed  a  complaint  against  me.  I 
demurred  to  the  complaint,  and  I  sustained  the 


8o     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

demurrer.  But  old  Johnson  went  around  to  the 
judge  again,  and  this  time  he  got  a  judgment 
against  me.  After  that  I  had  to  look  out  lively 
to  prevent  an  execution.  I  mean  from  old  John- 
son's boot.  But  I  got  a  stay  of  proceedings,  until 
the  Colonel  found  out  I  still  went  to  see  Nellie. 
Then  he  made  things  lively  in  trying  to  get  an 
attachment.  But  one  day  he  caught  me,  and  then 
things  were  warlike  for  a  while,  and  old  Johnson 
got  an  attachment  and  an  execution  both  at  the 
same  time.  But  I  got  away,  and  then  the  de- 
fendant did  some  tall  running,  while  the  plaintiff 
followed  but  was  distanced! 

"Then  the  Colonel  sent  a  summons  for  me,  but 
I  didn't  consider  it  a  copy  of  the  original,  so  I 
didn't  appear.  But  when  he  came  around,  I 
used  an  alibi,  in  other  words,  got  out  of  the  way. 
Then  Johnson  swore  he'd  whip  me  on  sight.  But 
he  didn't  ring  in  any  post  facto  law  on  me.  But 
he  did  send  a  big  Irish  coachman  after  me  with  a 
sort  of  a  writ  of  Habeas  Corpus.  But  we  thought 
he  lacked  the  jurisdiction,  'till  one  day  he  caught 
me  fishing;  then  I  changed  my  mind  and  used 
an  alibi  by  sliding  under  the  wharf  I  After  that, 
things  ran  rough,  or,  as  Shakespeare  says: 

'We  were  tossed  on  fortune's  fickle  flood.' 

"And  at  last  the  coachman  caught  me,  and 
brought  me  around  to  the  Colonel's  office.  Then 
came  a  trial,  not  by  a  ]ury  but  by  a  magistrate. 
There  was  plenty  of  evidence  for  conviction,  and 
a  cross-examination,  but  no  evidence  allowed  in 
rebuttal,  and  the  result  was  a  writ  of  prohibition. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE         81 

And  we  obeyed  it,  for  even  the  Spartans  were 
crushed  when  the  enemy  got  in  their  rear.  But  I 
felt " 

"Sort  of  annihilated,  kind  of  Vandalized  I" 
interposed  the  editor. 

"Yes,  I  felt  exactly  so.;' 

"Love's  a  very  mysterious  thing,"  remarked  a 
Vandal  solemnly. 

"Been  there,  I  suppose,"  said  the  blacksmith. 

"Yes,"  said  Jerry,  "love's  a  curious  thing,  as 
Addison  sings: 

'Mysterious  love!  uncertain  treasure, 
Hast  thou  more  of  pain  or  pleasure? 
Endless  torments,  dwell  about  thee, 
Yet  who  would  live,  and  live  without  thee?' 

But  then: 

'There's  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life, 
As  love's  young  dream.'" 

"Resolved:"  said  Gleaton  arising,  "that  court- 
ing is  a  necessity,  and  that  it  is  against  progress 
and  civilization  to  interfere  with  it." 

The  vote  was  strongly  in  the  affirmative. 
/'Never  mind,   Ned,"   said   Marshall,    "you'll 
win  your  girl  yet : 

'Who  listens  once,  will  listen  twice 
Her  heart,  be  sure,  is  not  of  ice.' " 


82     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 
CHAPTER  XL 

THE  VANDALS. 

Without  or  with  offence  to  friends  or  foes, 

I   sketch  the   world  exactly   as   it   goes. — Byron. 

."The  next  order  of  business  is  a  description  of 
life  in  Turkey,  by  Mr.  Jerry  Marshall,"  said  the 
chairman. 

The  village  editor  again  rose  and  began. 

"As  regards  the  Turks,  slightly  change  the 
words  of  Shakespeare.  'There's  a  pleasure  in 
being  a  Turk,  that  none  but  a  Turk  knows/  if 
it's  only  to  be  lazy  and  rob  your  more  industrious 
neighbors. 

"Well,  to  begin,  Fate,  or  at  least  circumstances, 
went  against  me  in  Ireland,  so  I  concluded  to 
emigrate,  for  'fields  and  pastures  new.'  I  formed 
a  traveling  partnership  with  Pat  Malory,  and  we 
set  out  for  the  land  of  the  Mohammedans.  When 
we  arrived  in  Constantinople  we  began  by  turn- 
ing Musselmen,  (for  in  Rome  do  as  Romans 
do),  with  the  hope,  or  at  least  the  ambition,  of 
some  day  becoming  a  kalif,  a  pasha,  or  better 
yet,  a  grand  vizier,  or  even  the  sultan  himself. 
For  Sultan  Marshall  and  Pasha  Malory  would'nt 
sound  bad. 

"On  arriving  in  Constantinople  the  first  tussle 
we  had  was  with  the  language.  But  we  got  a 
good  deal  of  help  in  it  from  two  Irishmen,  who 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        83 

went  by  the  names  of  Mohammed  All  and  Ben 
Selim,  although  they  were  known  in  Ireland  as 
Pat  Murphy  and  Tim  Flannigan.  But,  as  Byron 
says: 

'As  custom  arbitrates,  whose  shifting  sway 
Our  life  and  manners  must  alike  obey/ 

"The  next  tussle  we  had  was  with  the  food, 
and  that  was  worse  than  the  language.  It  came 
near  annihilating,  sort  of  Vandalizing  us. 

"We  went  to  eat  at  a  house  where  there  were 
a  dozen  Turks.  Real,  lazy  Turks.  They  had  a 
huge  pot  hung  over  the  fire,  and  after  it  boiled 
sufficiently,  they  took  it  off  the  fire  and  set  it  in 
the  middle  of  the  floor.  When  it  had  cooled, 
the  Turks  collected  around  it,  and  each  one  put 
his  fist  into  it  and  drew  out  a  piece  of  meat  or 
a  vegetable.  They're  opposed  to  using  knives  or 
forks;  it's  too  slow  a  process  of  eating.  They 
gnawed  away  on  the  eatable  like  a  cat  on  a  mouse. 
I  looked  at  their  fingers;  they  didn't  look  as  if 
they'd  been  stirred  in  water  for  a  month.  About 
this  time  a  dozen  or  more  dogs  came  rushing 
into  the  room.  The  streets  of  Constantinople 
are  full  of  canines;  there  seems  to  be  a  couple 
of  dogs  for  every  inhabitant,  and  three  or  four 
over,  and  these  superfluous  dogs  always  follow 
a  stranger;  they  followed  me.  Well,  the  dogs  lay 
down  near  the  Turks,  sometimes  one  on  each  side 
of  a  man.  And  whenever  the  man  brought  the 
meat  from  his  mouth,  the  dog  would  bite  off  a 
mouthful  too.  So  the  dogs  and  the  Turks  sat 
there  taking  turns  on  the  food.  But  Pat  and  I 


84      THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

were  hungry;  so  we  slid  toward  the  pot  to  make 
a  grab;  but  just  then  a  dog  pushed  his  head  into 
it  up  to  his  eyes  and  pulled  out  a  bone.  We 
looked  at  the  dog,  and  then  at  the  door,  and  then 
we  turned  around  and  slid  out.  After  that,  we 
found  some  American-Turks  to  board  with. 

"I  next  began  studying  the  Koran,  and  looking 
toward  Mecca.  For  you  know,  when  in  Rome, 
do  as  Romans  do." 

"Well,  Jerry,  how'd  you  progress  in  religion?" 
asked  a  Vandal. 

"Oh,  I  progressed  rapidly.  Soon  became  a 
Musselman,  from  the  top  of  my  head  down  to  my 
boots." 

"What  kind  of  an  institution  is  their  religion?" 
asked  Gleaton. 

"To  begin  with,  the  Turks  believe  Mahomet 
is  the  high  muck-a-muck,  or  in  the  words  of  their 
creed,  the  Apostle  of  God,  who  perfected  the 
laws  of  Moses  and  Christ.  The  next  thing  they 
believe  in  is  the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca  and  the 
festival  of  Ramadan.  Like  the  Jews,  they  don't 
believe  in  eating  hog-meat." 

"Do  they  believe  in  Heaven?"  asked  Kelly. 

"Oh,  yes,  they  have  a  grand  description  of 
Heaven,  for  true  Musselmen,  they  have  it  divided 
into  different  degrees  of  felicity,  for  the  different 
grades  of  believers.  Prophets  have  the  most  em- 
inent degree;  doctors  and  teachers  of  the  Mosques 
come  next;  and  the  common  clod-hopper 
Musselmen  come  last.  This  Heaven  they  de- 
scribe as  containing  rivers  of  water,  precious 
stones,  trees  of  gold,  beds  of  musk,  garments  of 
the  richest  cloth,  silken  carpets  and  couches,  and 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        85 

crowns  of  diamonds,  to  be  worn  by  the  blessed. 
They  also  believe  they  shall  eat  and  drink  in  that 
world,  as  well  as  in  this.  So  there  will  be  an 
abundance  of  food  served  on  golden  dishes,  and 
immense  silver  casks  of  wine,  which  one  may 
drink  without  becoming  intoxicated.  I  think  that 
part  would  suit  the  Vandals  to  a  dot.  They  will 
all  collect  under  an  immense  tree  of  happiness 
called  the  Tooba,  which  is  as  large  as  half  a  con- 
tinent, and  which  shall  bear  fruit  of  all  kinds  of 
immense  size.  Meantime,  the  ear  will  be  filled 
with  the  songs  of  birds  and  sirens  of  paradise. 
And  each  Musselman  shall  have  seventy-two 
wives,  whose  beauty  shall  be  beyond  anything 
imaginable.  In  fact,  he  shall  be  an  improvement 
on  Brigham  Young. 

"No  matter  at  what  age  the  faithful  shall  die 
in  this  world,  it  shall  never  exceed  thirty  years 
in  paradise." 

"Quite  a  handy  age  to  always  remain,"  said 
Gleaton. 

"Do  they  believe  in  hell,  and  what  kind  of  a 
place  is  it?"  asked  a  Vandal. 

uYes,  they  have  several  hells,  or  degrees  of 
punishment.  It  is  an  accommodating  religion, 
and  warms  a  man  up  to  his  heart's  content,  if  not 
more  so.  The  prophets  are  the  only  ones  who 
go  direct  to  heaven.  The  martyrs  even  suffer  a 
sort  of  Pythagorean  punishment  in  the  gizzard 
of  green  birds,  but  are  finally  rescued.  Another 
class  is  put  in  the  archangel's  trumpet,  or  thrown 
into  Zemzen's  well,  or  squeezed  under  a  rock, 
called  the  Devil's  Jaw.  The  seventh  Plutonion 
cauldron  is  the  worst  hell  of  all,  and  is  used  to 


86      THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

warm  up  hypocrites  of  religion.  This  place  of 
torment,  this  Ultima  Thule  of  perdition,  is  filled 
with  fire,  smoke  and  terrible  screams,  while  the 
lost  spirits  will  have  for  company  hideous,  hiss- 
ing reptiles,  and  a  myriad  of  demons,  who  will 
stir  them  up  with  their  double-tined  pitchforks. 
Spanning  this  hell  is  the  famous  bridge  of  Al 
Sirat,  over  which  every  soul  must  pass  to  the 
world  of  bliss.  It  is  represented  to  be  finer  than 
a  thread,  and  sharper  than  the  edge  of  a  sword, 
beset  with  all  kinds  of  danger;  but  the  good  easily 
pass  over,  while  the  wicked  tumble  in.  Prophets 
pass  this  bridge  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning, 
others  at  snail's  pace,  according  to  the  load  of 
their  sins.  The  Turks  believe  that  every  corpse, 
after  being  buried,  is  awakened  at  midnight  by 
two  black  and  weird  demons  of  fearful  appear- 
ance, called  Monkir  and  Nekir,  who  commanded 
it  to  sit  erect  in  its  sepulcher  and  pass  the  sub- 
lime examination  for  heaven  or  hell!  If  he 
passes,  he  is  promoted  to  heaven;  if  he  fails,  he 
falls  to  the  freshman  class  in  Pluto,  never  to  rise 
again. 

"You  see,  it  is  a  religion  that  suits  a  Turk's 
wild  imagination. 

"To  be  brief,"  continued  Jerry,  "I  learned  their 
language,  religion,  and  habits;  in  fact,  their  every 
thing — and  rose,  step  by  step,  till  I  became  a 
Pasha.  But  it  was  the  same  old  story  of  my  life 
before,  and  since;  whiskey  got  the  best  of  me, 
and  my  fall  was  quicker  than  my  rise.  You  know 
when  a  man's  unfortunate  he  loses  most  of  his 
friends;  so  it  was  with  me,  though  a  few  remained 
firm  to  the  last.  But  like  Othello,  my  occupation 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        87 

was  gone.     So  ex  necessitate  rei,  I  concluded  to 
leave. 

uAs  I  was  drifting  from  the  shores  of  Islam, 
and  saw  friend  and  foe  disappear  in  the  twi- 
light, I  thought  forcibly  of  those  lines  of  Byron : 

'Here's  a  sigh  for  those  who  love  me, 

And  a  smile  to  those  who  hate; 
And  whatever  sky's  above  me, 

Here's  a  heart  for  every  fate.'" 

"I  never  knowed  but  one  Turk,"  said  Kelly 
the  Pirate.  "Saw  him  out  in  Californy.  He 
was  in  the  mule  business.  He  had  an  awful  big 
mouth  on  'im  for  vittles." 

"Could  bite  an  awful  big  hole  in  a  pumpkin," 
suggested  Gleaton. 

"Yis,  exactly,  he  had  the  habit  of  slappin' 
mules  on  the  rump.  He  hit  a  big  black  mule  one 
day,  and  the  mule  fired  out  wid  both  hind  legs 
together.  An'  begorra  there  wuz  one  Turk  to 
cross  the  bridge  of  Al  Sirat  in  less  than  a  minute." 

"The  motion  to  adjourn,  is  now  in  order," 
said  the  chairman. 

It  was  immediately  put  and  carried,  followed 
by  a  general  scattering  of  those  present. 


88      THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 
CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  HAUNTED  GRAVEYARD. 

If  the  spirit  ever  gazes, 

From  its  journey  back; 
If  the  immortal  ever  traces 

O'er  its  mortal  track ; 
Wilt  thou  not,  O  brother,  meet  us, 

Sometimes  on  our  way, 
And  in  hours  of  sadness  greet  us, 

As  a  spirit  may? — Whittier. 

It  was  nearly  mid-night,  shortly  after  the  scene 
described  in  the  Vandal  club  as  Frank  Meredith 
strode  down  the  stone  steps  of  the  Medical  Col- 
lege— with  Gray's  Anatomy  under  his  arm — and 
pressed  along  the  solitary  path  that  lead  over  the 
lonely  hills  to  his  home.  The  storm-threatening 
clouds  swept  along  the  sky  like  masses  of  sul- 
phurous smoke  above  a  field  of  battle.  The  dis- 
tant village  was  silent  and  dark,  except  for  the 
single  mystic  blue  light  that  rolled  forth  in  vol- 
umes from  the  spectre  window  of  the  haunted 
house,  darting  and  reflecting  from  cloud  to  cloud, 
as  if  Argus-like,  watching  over  the  pandemonium 
where  the  demons  were  counseling  together  ere 
day-light  should  force  them  back  across  the  Styg- 
ian stream  to  the  Plutonian  shore. 

Meredith  pressed  rapidly  along  in  the  gloom, 
which  was  occasionally  illumined  by  a  stray  moon- 
beam that  struggled  through  the  black  clouds  and 
threw  its  rays  across  his  track.  After  walking 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        89 

about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  over  the  hill,  he 
reached  the  cemetery  through  which  his  way  led, 
and  as  he  mounted  the  stile  to  enter,  the  distant 
church  clock  struck  the  hour  of  twelve. 

"Tis  mid-night's  holy  hour — and  silence  now 
Is  brooding  like  a  gentle  spirit  o'er 
The  still  and  pulseless  world." 

He  quoted,  as  he  entered  the  silent  city  of  the 
dead  and  pressed  on  amid  the  marble  monuments, 
without  the  thought  whether  or  not,  at 

"Mid-night,  in  the  lonely  grave  yard, 

Amid  the  silent  dead, 
Does  some  restless  spirit  wander 
Where  the  soul  its  body  fled?" 

He  had  nearly  reached  the  center  of  the  ceme- 
tery, when  he  was  aroused  from  his  reverie  on 
the  anatomy  of  arteries,  veins  and  nerves,  by 
the  rattle  of  a  chain.  He  stood  and  listened; 
the  sound  was  repeated.  It  seemed  to  come  from 
behind  a  tall  marble  monument.  He  ran  toward 
it  but  seemed  to  recede,  although  rattling  louder 
than  ever.  He  followed  without  a  moment's 
hesitation,  for  like  all  medical  students,  he  had 
dissected  too  many  dead  to  feel  any  superstition 
in  their  presence.  As  ghosts,  it  was  an  excellent 
thing  to  crack  a  grim  joke  about  in  the  dissect- 
ing room,  while  cutting  the  cadaver  to  pieces,  but 
nothing  more. 

He  chased  the  clinking  chains  around  among 
the  tombstones  and  trees  for  nearly  an  hour.  For 
he  was  determined  to  solve  the  mystery,  if  possi- 
ble. Several  times  he  thought  he  had  the  phan- 


90     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

torn  within  his  grasp,  but  it  seemed  to  melt  away 
in  the  gloom.  At  last,  tired  out  and  bruised  from 
tumbling  over  tombstones  and  roots  of  trees,  he 
sat  down  on  a  stone  to  rest. 

"Confound  the  thing!  It's  the  worst  puzzle 
I  ever  tried  to  solve.  If  I  wern't  so  tired  and 
sleepy  I'd  give  the  thing  another  race.  There's 
something  peculiar  about  this.  The  whole  town 
seems  haunted  by  these  strange  doings.  I  hope 
one  of  these  ghosts  will  haunt  the  Medical  Col- 
lege, I  think  we  could  catch  one." 

As  he  muttered  this  last  remark  he  arose  and 
pressing  through  the  graveyard  wound  his  way 
home. 

The  next  day  the  news  of  his  adventure  spread 
through  the  whole  village.  The  tale  was  heard 
by  the  people  without  much  surprise,  for  ghosts 
had  been  seen  in  nearly  all  parts  of  the  town,  and 
was  not  the  cemetery  a  natural  place  for  one  to 
wander  where  his  body  had  mouldered  to  dust? 

That  night  the  Vandal  club  held  a  meeting  to 
discuss  the  phantoms,  and  Frank  Meredith  told 
his  adventure.  A  committee  of  five  Vandals  was 
appointed  (three  of  whom  were  medical  stu- 
dents) to  investigate  the  ghost  in  the  graveyard. 

The  club  adjourned  at  ten  o'clock  and  the  five 
Vandals  started  for  the  haunted  cemetery.  They 
walked  rapidly  out  of  the  village  and  over  the 
low  hills  to  the  burying  ground.  Climbing  over 
the  stile,  they  sat  down  on  a  group  of  tombstones 
to  await  developments. 

"I  wonder  whose  ghost  it  is;  he  seems  to  be  a 
lively  fellow?"  said  one. 

"Yes,  I  think  it  must  be  old  Jack  Jones'  phan- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        91 

torn.  You  know  he  was  a  junkman  and  had  a 
hankering  after  old  chains.  Perhaps  he  found 
one  in  the  other  world,"  replied  another. 

"Or,  it  may  be  Joe  Moon,  the  cow  jobber,  he 
always  led  his  cattle  with  a  chain." 

"But,"  said  a  medical  student  balancing  him- 
self on  a  marble  headstone,  "I  rather  think  it's 
Tim  Murphy's  spectre,  for  you  know  when  he 
died  in  jail  they  buried  him  with  his  chains  on." 

"Oh,  no,  they'd  melt  off  in  the  Plutonian  pit, 
for  Jim  undoubtedly  got  a  taste  of  it." 

"Yes,"  said  Marshall,  "the  fire  and  brimstone 
would  sort  of  annihilate,  kind  of  Vandalize  the 
chains ! 


'Would  evaporate  them  away, 
As  stars  before  the  light  of  day.5 


At  this  moment  they  were  interrupted  by  the 
rattle  of  a  chain,  when  all  instantly  sprang  to 
their  feet  and  rushed  in  the  direction  of  the 
sound.  They  followed  the  fleeting  monster 
around  trees  and  monuments  at  a  full  run.  Oc- 
casionally one  of  their  number  went  tumbling 
head-long  over  a  stone  or  root,  the  others  press- 
ing on  leaving  him  alone  to  rub  his  bruised  shins. 
They  thought  the  mystery  was  surrounded  a 
dozen  times  or  more,  but  it  was  certain  to  break 
away,  while  one  of  their  number  was  sure  to  be 
stretched  on  the  earth  from  a  severe  blow,  though 
no  power  was  visible.  But  they  were  a  plucky 
crowd,  and  each  prostrate  Vandal  recovered  and 
followed  again  in  the  chase.  Finally  they  were 
compelled  to  give  up  the  chase ;  they  seated  them- 


92     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

selves  for  rest  near  the  stile  in  a  demoralized 
condition  and  looked  as  if  they  had  been  engaged 
in  a  prize  fight.  Their  faces  were  bruised, 
bloody  and  stained  with  mud,  so  that  it  would 
be  difficult  to  tell  whether  they  were  white  or 
black  men. 

Slowly  and  sadly  they  started  homeward,  as 
Marshall  said: 

"Well,  boys,  we're  sort  of  annihilated,  kind  of 
Vandalized!  But  me  must  solve  the  mystery." 

"Yes,  we  must  catch  the  ghost/'  they  cried  in 
chorus. 

,  "I  tell  you,  boys,"  said  Meredith,  "he's  a  lively 
ghost;  he  struck  me  a  blow  on  the  skull  that 
nearly  broke  my  head!" 

"Yis,';  said  Kelly  the  Pirate,  "bedads,  he  hit 
me  one  in  the  stomick  that  doubled  me  up  like  a 
jack-knife." 

The  following  evening  the  Vandals  held  an 
extra  session  and  appointed  a  second  and  larger 
investigating  committee,  but  it  met  with  no  better 
success  than  the  first. 

They  immediately  held  another  meeting.  It 
was  a  wild  and  stormy  one  in  which  every  one 
spoke,  for  the  club  had  never  been  beaten  in 
solving  secrets  before,  and  they  were  determined 
to  conquer  if  it  lay  in  their  power.  They  said: 
"We  must  win,  it  will  never  do  to  allow  the  club 
to  be  beaten  by  the  ghost!  We  must  ferret  it 
out."  So  they  appointed  a  still  larger  committee 
to  investigate  the  mystery.  They  were  to  make 
the  attempt  the  succeeding  night,  but  a  strange 
phenomenon  occurred  that  evening  which  still 
more  complicated  the  matter,  and  completely  non- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        93 

plussed  the  Vandals  as  well  as  the  entire  village. 

The  night  set  in  dark,  but  grew  occasionally 
brighter  as  the  moon  appeared  from  behind  a 
mass  of  clouds  and  myriads  of  stars  shone  out. 

A  small  crowd  of  men  was  collected  in  front 
of  the  village  hotel  discussing  the  ghost,  when 
one  gazing  toward  the  Haunted  House  saw  a 
volume  of  dense  black  smoke  arise  a  short  dis- 
tance above  the  roof  and  hang  in  mid-air.  He 
called  the  attention  of  others,  and  soon  every  eye 
was  directed  toward  the  old  house.  It  remained 
a  black  mass  for  several  moments,  then  gradually 
grew  brighter  and  a  human  form  began  rapidly 
to  take  shape.  With  excited  faces  they  gazed 
at  the  strange  spectacle.  In  a  few  seconds  amid 
the  smoke  appeared  the  distinct  form  of  a  man, 
with  a  huge  gash  in  his  throat,  from  which  the 
blood  seemed  to  flow  over  his  garments.  An 
expression  of  wonder  burst  from  the  spectators, 
as  one  of  them  exclaimed: 

"It  is  the  spirit  of  the  murdered  man  of  the 
old  house." 

Soon  the  whole  village  was  gazing  at  the  ap- 
parition. The  excitement  was  intense,  and  the 
villagers  earnestly  discussed  the  matter,  and 
eagerly  sought  the  cause  of  the  murdered  man's 
appearance  from  the  confines  of  the  tomb. 

Could  one  longer  doubt  that  the  old  house 
was  haunted?  If  they  had  lacked  proof  of  it  be- 
fore, it  was  now  given  by  the  ghostly  form  of  the 
murdered  man  in  full  view.  Women  and  chil- 
dren, as  well  as  men,  fled  in  terror  from  the  aw- 
ful spectacle.  But  still  there  was  something  irre- 
sistible tempting  them  to  turn  back  and  look  at 


94     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

the  restless  spirit  who  was  unable  to  remain  in 
the  quiet  of  the  tomb,  but  who  was  like  Hamlet's 
father : 

"Doom'd  for  a  certain  time  to  walk  the  night." 
The  apparition  would  grow  bright,  then  fade 
away,  and  then  become  visible  again.  It  usually 
appeared  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock  at  night. 
For  six  successive  nights  the  ghastly  spectre  stood 
bright  and  clear  against  the  sky,  then  faded  away 
to  be  succeeded  by  that  of  another,  the  form  of 
a  woman,  or  rather  that  of  a  young  girl  of  great 
beauty,  with  a  spotless  white  robe  and  mass  of 
long  yellow  hair.  This  apparition  formed  a 
pleasing  contrast,  with  its  angelic  face  and  calm, 
sweet  smile  playing  about  the  lips,  compared  with 
the  furrowed  features,  clenched  teeth,  and  agon- 
izing look  of  the  other. 

The  third  night  of  the  appearance  of  the  ap- 
parition, the  Vandal  club  held  a  secret  session. 
It  lasted  till  late  in  the  night,  and  the  discussions 
were  long  and  animated,  everything  was  con- 
ducted sub  rosa,  but  the  result  was  that  the 
Vandals  made  no  further  attempt  to  investigate 
the  spirits. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        95 
CHAPTER  XIII. 

SPIRITUALISM. 

Angels  and  ministers  of  grace,  defend  us! 

Be  thou  a  spirit  of  health,  or  goblin  damned, 

Bring  with  thee  airs  from  heaven,  or  blasts  from  hell, 

Be  thy  intents  wicked  or  charitable, 

Thou  comest  in  such  a  questionable  shape. — Shakespeare. 

Toward  the  close  of  a  cold,  blustering  day, 
nearly  a  week  after  the  appearance  of  the  spectre 
in  mid-air,  a  mysterious,  weird-looking  stranger 
entered  the  village  of  St.  Arlyle.  He  was  tall, 
lank  and  cadaverous,  with  long  black  hair  reach- 
ing to  his  shoulders.  He  was  over  six  feet  in 
height,  and  his  clothes  were  much  too  short,  fit- 
ting his  narrow  chest  and  pole  legs  like  a  scare- 
crow. He  moved  with  a  swinging  stride,  as  if 
stepping  over  ditches,  turning  the  toes  of  his 
large  feet  inward,  while  his  arms,  with  one  of 
which  he  carried  a  large  valise,  were  moving  for- 
ward and  backward,  like  the  oars  of  a  boat.  He 
cut  a  ludicrous  figure  as  he  strode  into  the  village, 
and  when  he  passed  the  few  loungers  at  the  door 
of  the  blacksmith  shop,  Gleaton  remarked  that 
he  looked  like  a  ghost  who  had  out-grown  his 
clothes  while  meandering  around  purgatory. 

"Looks  as  if  he'd  been  living  on  wind  pudding 
and  shadow  soup,"  suggested  Kelly. 

"Oh,  he's  just  walking  around  to  save  funeral 
expenses.  He's  hunting  for  a  big  fire  to  be  cre- 
mated in,"  said  Marshall. 


96     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"He  needn't  trouble  himself  about  that,  he'll 
soon  dry  up  and  blow  away,"  said  the  blacksmith. 

"I  wonder  what  he's  got  in  that  valise?" 

"Oh,  I  suppose  the  skeleton  keys  of  the  Plu- 
tonian world." 

Meanwhile  the  gaunt  individual  strode  onward 
till  he  reached  the  largest  hotel,  which  he  entered. 
He  was  followed  soon  after  by  two  Vandals  for 
the  purpose  of  making  inquiries.  Thus  it  became 
known  that  he  was  a  spiritual  medium. 

That  night  the  Vandals  held  a  meeting,  and 
resolved  to  visit  the  medium  in  a  body. 

It  was  late  when  the  Vandals,  nearly  twenty  in 
number,  reached  the  hotel.  Calling  for  the 
spiritualist,  the  landlord  informed  them  that  he 
had  retired.  They  desired  to  be  shown  to  his 
room.  This  the  proprietor  refused  on  the  plea 
that  he  did  not  wish  to  disturb  his  guest.  But 
the  Vandals  insisted  on  seeing  the  medium,  and 
the  proprietor  at  last  yielded.  Leading  them  to 
the  bedroom  of  his  guest,  he  left  them.  One  of 
the  club  rapped  on  the  door,  when  a  voice  cried 
"Come  in."  They  all  pressed  into  the  room. 

The  spiritualist  was  lying  in  bed,  but  on  the 
entrance  of  the  Vandals  he  raised  himself  to  a 
sitting  posture,  with  a  frightened  look  apparently 
caused  by  the  large  number  of  visitors. 

"Don't  be  alarmed,"  said  Gleaton,  who  acted 
as  spokesman,  "we  heard  that  you  were  a  spirit- 
ualist, and  merely  called  to  learn  something  about 
that  science,  in  which  we  are  all  interested.  My 
name  is  Gleaton,  and  these  men  are  members  of 
the  Vandal  club." 

"Very  glad  to  meet  you,  gentlemen,"  gasped 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        97 

the  spiritualist,  his  sallow  face  beginning  to  lose 
its  scared  look. 

"My  name  is  Phantom,  Professor  Phantom. 
Fm  a  spiritual  medium." 

"Happy  to  meet  you,  Professor  Phantom," 
cried  a  half  dozen  Vandals  in  chorus. 

"I  suppose,"  continued  the  blacksmith,  "you 
have  direct  communication  with  the  other  world." 

"Yes,  when  I  go  into  a  trance." 

"Say,  Phantom,"  said  the  Pirate,  in  a  muffled 
tone,  "got  any  ghosts  wid  yees,  now?" 

"Let's  see  one." 

"Hush  up !  keep  quiet,"  said  Marshall,  poking 
the  Pirate  in  the  side. 

"This  town  seems  to  be  a  good  field  to  develop 
the  science  of  spiritualism,"  continued  Gleaton, 
not  noticing  Kelly's  remarks.  "We  have  a  great 
many  spiritual  manifestations  here." 

"Oh,  yes,  it  is  only  more  evidence  corroborat- 
ing the  fact  that  the  departed  visit  this  world  in 
spiritual  form,"  replied  the  Phantom. 

"Departed  spirits  of  a  whiskey  bottle,"  sug- 
gested the  Pirate. 

"Would  you  like  to  see  some  of  my  power 
with  the  spirit  world?" 

"Well,  no,  not  to-night,"  answered  Gleaton, 
"some  of  the  young  men  here  are  of  a  very  ex- 
citable nature,  and  are  apt  to  have  fits  at  any- 
thing unusual.  For  example,  this  young  man 
here,"  pointing  to  Kelly. 

"Yes,  spirits  seem  to  stick  in  my  throat,  and 
somehow  or  other  they  won't  go  down." 

"Just  as  I  remarked,  he's  of  a  delicate  dispo- 
sition and  can't  stand  excitement." 


98     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"I  suppose  you  intend  remaining  here  for  some 
time,"  said  Marshall. 

"Yes,  and  form  a  spiritual  circle  for  the  benefit 
of  the  citizens  of  St.  Arlyle." 

"That  is,  you  intend  to  hold  communication 
with  those  volatile  spirits  who  are  evaporating 
around  the  world,"  replied  the  editor. 

"Good-night,  Professor." 

"Good-night,  gentlemen." 

"Kelly,"  said  Gleaton,  when  they  had  reached 
the  street,  "you  should  have  more  respect  when 
you  are  in  the  presence  of  a  phantom  of  the  other 
world." 

"Sure,  he  looks  loike  a  phantom  in  fact,  as 
well  as  name." 

"I  think  he's  an  animated  stiff  anyhow." 

"Yes,"  said  Marshall,  "hunting  for  a  grave- 
yard." 

"Bedabs,  an'  he'd  make  a  peaceable  looking 
corpse." 

The  next  day  the  medium  rented  a  house  in 
the  central  part  of  the  village,  and  posted  a  sign 
bearing  the  following  in  golden  letters: 

"Professor  G.  S.  Phantom, 

Greatest  Living  Spiritual  Medium;  communica- 
tions with  deceased  friends;  answers  all  questions 
correctly.  Seances 

Tuesdays  and  Saturdays." 

This  announcement  created  excitement  in  the 
village,  and  soon  drew  a  large  number  of  be- 
lievers in  spiritualism  to  the  medium's  seances. 
At  these  seances  the  medium  went  into  trances, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE        99 

and  showed  that  he  was  insensible  to  earthly 
things,  but  in  communication  with  the  spirit 
world.  Many  persons  asked  questions  concern- 
ing deceased  friends,  to  all  of  whom  he  gave  an- 
swers of  surprising  accuracy  as  to  place,  date  of 
death,  and  other  circumstances.  He  soon  made 
acquaintance  of  most  of  the  people  in  the  town, 
and  among  the  first  with  whom  he  became  inti- 
mate were  the  Vandals.  He  even  dropped  in  at 
the  club,  remaining  half  an  hour  or  more. 

About  two  months  after  his  arrival,  Phantom 
announced  that  on  the  coming  Saturday  night  a 
grand  seance  would  take  place  in  the  large  hall, 
at  which  spirit  wonders  would  be  performed. 

The  hall  was  completely  filled  with  an  eager 
crowd.  At  the  appointed  hour,  Phantom  drew 
aside  the  curtain  and  revealed  the  stage,  which 
was  hung  around  with  black  cloth.  In  the  middle 
of  the  floor  stood  a  small  oak  table,  and  at  the 
back  was  a  cabinet,  about  the  size  of  a  wardrobe. 
The  stage  was  lighted  by  blue  flames,  emitted 
from  a  brazier  standing  on  a  tripod.  Phantom 
stood  by  the  table  looking  more  ghastly  than 
ever  in  the  blue  light.  His  sallow  face  deathly 
white,  his  long  black  hair  hung  like  a  pall  about 
it,  and  his  eyes  seemed  blacker  in  the  corpse-like 
pallor  of  his  countenance. 

He  stepped  to  the  front  and  spoke  as  follows: 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen:  You  will  to-night  wit- 
ness the  wonders  of  spiritualism,  the  greatest 
power  given  to  civilized  man.  I  refer  to  necro- 
mancy, or  the  power  of  communicating  with  the 
dead.  Spiritualism  is  of  very  ancient  origin,  in 
fact  it  is  cotemporaneous  with  the  world's  his- 


ioo   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

tory.  We  can  trace  it  from  age  to  age,  although 
bearing  different  names.  For  example,  in  the 
eighteenth  century  we  find  it  known  as  the  illumi- 
nati,  of  which  the  illustrious  Swedenborg  and 
Cagliostro  were  apostles.  The  seance  will  now 
begin." 

Four  spiritualists  immediately  seated  them- 
selves around  the  table,  with  the  medium  at  its 
head,  and  after  a  short  silence  one  of  them  asked 
of  a  deceased  brother: 

"Brother,  are  you  in  heaven?'* 

After  a  few  moments,  one  rap  came  from  the 
table,  meaning  yes. 

"Are  you  happy?" 

Again  the  table  rapped  yes. 

"Would  you  wish  to  be  on  earth  again?" 

The  table  rapped  twice,  for  no. 

After  several  moments'  silence,  the  table  began 
a  dancing  motion. 

"It  is  John  Eal !"  cried  several. 

Eal  was  a  man  who  had  been  hanged  in  the 
village  about  six  months  before. 

"Are  you  in  heaven?" 

Two  raps,  no. 

"Where  are  you  then?" 

At  this  question  the  table  began  to  jump  wildly 
about,  striking  its  legs  heavily  against  the  floor. 

None  wished  to  pursue  this   inquiry   further. 

But  numerous  other  questions  were  asked  and 
answered  by  the  raps.  The  spiritualists  then  left 
the  table  and  the  audience  were  allowed  to  ex- 
amine it.  They  examined  closely  for  a  cord  or 
device  which  could  have  communicated  motion 
to  it,  but  in  vain.  They  turned  it  upside  down 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       101 

and  thoroughly  looked  at  every  part,  but  they 
found  nothing  unusual  about  it. 

Phantom  next  brought  forward  a  small  tin 
box,  about  five  inches  square,  which  he  placed  on 
the  table,  as  he  said: 

"I  will  show  you  that  by  the  aid  of  this  little 
casket  we  can  communicate  with  the  spirits  of 
the  departed." 

He  next  produced  a  small  sheet  of  white  paper. 

"Now,"  he  continued,  "will  any  person  ask  a 
question  of  some  friend  in  the  spirit  land?" 

Kelly  immediately  asked,  "What  was  my 
brother's  name,  and  how  old  wuz  he  whin  he 
died,  and  is  he  happy?" 

Phantom  took  one  of  the  sheets  of  paper  and 
making  a  pass  over  it,  said,  "I  will  put  this  sheet 
in  the  tin  case  and  place  it  over  the  spiritual 
flames,  when  the  answer  will  be  found  written 
upon  the  paper.  You  see  the  sheet  is  blank.  I 
will  now  pass  it  to  the  audience,  that  you  may 


examine  it." 


The  paper  was  examined  by  a  number,  all  of 
whom  found  it  to  be  blank,  when  it  was  placed 
in  the  tin  box  by  one  of  the  audience  and  the  case 
locked.  The  medium  then  placed  it  on  a  wire 
tripod  above  the  flames.  After  waiting  a  few  mo- 
ments he  removed  the  case  to  the  table  again, 
then  requested  any  one  to  unlock  the  box  and 
take  out  the  answer.  One  of  the  audience  did 
so,  and  read  in  bold  black  letters : 

"John  Kelly,  age  19  years,  I  am  happy." 

"May  I  ask  a  question?"  said  an  old  farmer. 

Certainly  replied  the  medium. 


102    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"What  was  my  wife's  maiden  name?  and  what 
was  her  age?  An*  ask  her  if  she's  happy ?" 

As  the  old  man  finished  his  questions,  he  re- 
marked to  several  around  him,  "I  guess  I  gave 
him  a  poser  this  time." 

Phantom  left  the  stage  for  a  few  minutes;  on 
returning  he  hands  the  farmer  a  sheet  of  paper, 
remarking,  "You  see  it  is  blank." 

"Yes,  it  is,"  replied  the  old  man  putting  on  his 
spectacles  and  examining  it  closely. 

"Now,"  continued  Phantom,  "seal  it  up  in  this 
envelope  and  place  a  private  mark  on  it." 

"May  I  put  the  envelope  in  the  box,"  asked  the 
farmer. 

"Yes,  certainly." 

The  farmer  mounted  the  platform  and  put  the 
envelope  in  the  case. 

"Lock  it,"  said  the  medium. 

"I  have." 

"Then  place  it  above  the  spirit  flames." 

The  farmer  did  so,  and  then  left  the  platform. 
A  deep  silence  followed. 

There  was  a  loud  rap,  and  Phantom  said, 
"Your  questions  are  answered." 

"May  I  remove  the  box?"  asked  the  farmer. 

"Yes,  take  it,  open  it,  open  the  envelope,  and 
read  your  answers." 

He  sprang  upon  the  stage,  and,  removing  the 
case  and  unlocking  it,  took  out  the  envelope. 
With  trembling  hands  and  a  face  flushed  with 
excitement,  he  read,  amid  an  almost  deathlike 
silence : 

"Helen  Porter,  age  48,  I  am  in  heaven,  I  can- 
not describe  the  bliss." 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      1031 

"It  is  true!"  wildly  exclaimed  the  farmer.  "It 
is  true!  I  never  believed  in  spiritualism  before, 
but  I  do  now.  It's  as  true  as  gospel." 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  DEVIL*S   CASKET,   AND  THE  AWAKENING  OF 

THE   ANCIENT   EGYPTIAN   VICTIM  OF 

SUSPENDED  ANIMATION. 

Black  it  stood  at  night, 
Fierce  as  ten  furies,  terrible  as  hell. — Milton. 

But  the  audience  were  to  witness  a  more 
wonderful  and  thrilling  performance  than  any  yet 
seen.  The  medium  brought  upon  the  stage  a 
black  box  about  a  foot  square,  and  covered  with 
hieroglyphics. 

"This  case,"  said  Phantom,  "is  known  as  the 
Devil's  casket,  because  at  times  Satan  is  known  to 
inhabit  it.  You  may  know  when  it  is  invested  by 
its  great  weight,  for  a  dozen  men  can  not  lift 
it.  But  when  not  invested  by  Satan,  a  child  may 
pick  it  up." 

"Be  dabs,"  said  Kelly,  in  an  undertone,  "is  he 
there  now?  If  he  is,  give  us  an  introduction." 

"This  casket,"  continued  the  medium,  not  notic- 
ing the  Pirate's  remarks,  "belonged  to  a  great 
Egyptian  necromancer  over  five  thousand  years 
ago,  and  it  is  therefore  thousands  of  years  old 
and  has  been  in  the  possession  of  many  noted 
mediums." 

"It's  a  wonder,"  murmured  Marshall,  "it 
hasn'.t  been  annihilated,  sort  of  Vandalized,  in 
passing  through  so  many  hands." 


104   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"It  passed,"  continued  the  medium,  "from 
century  to  century  with  its  mysterious  secret,  till 
it  finally  became  the  property  of  that  great 
medium,  Cagliostro,  who  gave  exhibitions  of  his 
marvelous  power  of  raising  the  spirits  of  the  dead 
in  the  eighteenth  century.  He  received  the  honor 
and  attention  due  to  such  a  great  and  wonderful 
spiritualist.  For  he  was  called  to  the  thrones  of 
kings  and  emperors,  to  exhibit  his  wonderful 
power.  Among  many  others,  that  of  Louis  XV 
and  XVI  of  France." 

uBe  jabers,"  muttered  Kelly,  "it's  a  wonder 
he  iver  died.  Why  didn't  he  raise  the  breath  in 
him  whin  he  lost  it?" 

"Oh,"  remarked  Gleaton,  "he  found  a  warmer 
place,  more  suitable  to  his  Satanic  taste." 

Phantom  raised  the  lid  of  the  box  and  took  out 
four  eggs,  about  the  size  of  a  pigeon's  egg. 

"These  are  serpent's  eggs,  such  snakes  as  dart 
about  in  the  bottomless  pit  of  fire  and  brimstone. 
They  are  true  to  their  nature,  and  will  instantly 
hatch  if  touched  or  placed  in  fire." 

He  then  placed  four  iron  dishes  upon  the  floor, 
and  put  an  egg  in  each.  Then  taking  a  burning 
torch,  he  applied  its  flames  to  an  egg  for  a  short 
time.  There  was  a  hissing  sound  and  a  serpent 
began  to  issue  forth.  He  treated  the  others  in 
like  manner,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  amid  fire  and 
smoke,  four  striped  serpents  were  uncoiling  their 
bodies  on  the  floor.  In  a  short  time  the  fire  and 
smoke  ceased,  and  there  they  lay  contorted  in 
various  shapes,  each  nearly  two  yards  in  length. 
The  medium  dropped  the  curtain,  and  when  it 
arose  again  the  reptiles  had  been  removed. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       105 

"Now  I  will  open  the  Devil's  box,   and  you 
will  see  that  it  is  empty.     Anyone  may  examine 


it." 


Several  persons  stepped  upon  the  stage,  and 
one  after  another  examined  it  inside  and  out, 
each  being  surprised  at  its  lightness. 

"You  have  seen  how  light  the  case  is,"  said 
the  medium.  "I  will  now  repeat  the  cabalistic 
formula,  when  it  will  be  invested  by  Beelzebub. 
I  order  you  in  the  name  of  Odanai,  of  Elohim, 
of  Muthrattam  and  of  Semaphoris,  to  appear  to 
me.  It  is  now  inhabited  by  Satan.  You  may 
try  and  move  it." 

Several  brawny  young  men  sprang  upon  the 
stage,  and  pulled  and  jerked  at  the  box  but  in 
vain.  Then  three  men  lifted  together,  but  they 
could  not  stir  it.  It  seemed  as  if  it  weighed  tons. 
After  a  large  number  had  exhausted  their  strength 
upon  it,  the  Phantom  said:  "I  will  repeat  another 
formula.  Now  you  see  a  child  can  lift  it." 

The  box  was  again  examined  by  the  audience, 
who  could  discover  nothing  peculiar  about  it,  and 
all  expressed  their  surprise  at  its  lightness  when 
not  inhabited  by  the  evil  one. 

"Be  jabers!"  said  the  Pirate,  "the  divil's  a 
heavy  old  chap  whin  you've  got  'im  boxed  up." 

Phantom  opened  the  doors  of  the  cabinet,  re- 
vealing its  interior,  which  was  hung  with  black. 
It  contained  a  plain  bench,  a  drum,  a  tin  horn  and 
a  bell. 

"I  will  now  proceed  to  show  you  that  great 
spiritual  feat,  performed  so  often  by  the  Daven- 
port brothers,  of  which  you  all  have  heard  and 
some  of  you  may  have  witnessed.  I  refer  to  their 


io6   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

being  securely  bound  by  ropes  and  immediately 
being  freed  by  spirit  power." 

The  medium  then  had  the  lights  extinguished, 
and  producing  a  rope  lay  down  upon  the  bench 
and  was  securely  bound  to  it  by  two  old  sailors 
from  the  audience,  who  twisted  the  ropes  in  every 
conceivable  shape  about  him  and  tied  knot  after 
knot. 

"I  guess,'*  remarked  one  of  the  old  salts,  "the 
spirits  won't  loose  that  spar  from  its  lashin'." 

The  two  men  left  the  stage,  and  the  doors  of 
the  cabinet  closed  of  their  own  accord.  And 
immediately  in  the  cabinet,  the  bell  was  rung,  the 
drum  was  beaten  and  the  trumpet  blown,  and  the 
next  instant  two  hands  were  thrust  through  the 
small  holes  in  the  upper  part  of  the  cabinet.  In 
a  few  moments  more  the  doors  swung  open,  and 
Phantom  was  seen  bound  as  before.  The  doors 
again  closed,  but  in  a  few  seconds  opened  again 
and  the  medium  was  seen  sitting  on  the  bench 
entirely  free. 

"Shiver  my  timbers!"  shouted  the  sailor,  "if 
the  lubber  aint  loose  from  his  lashin' :" 

"Now,"  said  the  medium,  "to  show  you  that 
I  do  not  use  my  hands,  you  may  place  flour  in 
each  of  them,  and  you  will  find  it  in  them  when 
the  doors  open.  Will  some  one  be  kind  enough 
to  obtain  some  flour?" 

"I  will,"  said  Kelly,  and  he  immediately  left 
the  room. 

He  soon  returned  and,  mounting  the  stage, 
placed  the  flour  in  both  hands  of  the  medium. 
The  latter  then  lay  down  upon  the  bench  and 
was  bound  as  before.  To  show  the  audience  that 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       107 

he  had  no  confederate,  Phantom  had  the  cabinet 
moved  to  the  centre  of  the  stage,  and  four  of 
the  spectators  were  placed  on  each  side  of  it  to 
watch.  The  cabinet  was  closed  and  the  same  per- 
formance as  before  repeated.  The  hands  were 
extended  wide  open  through  the  aperture,  show- 
ing that  they  could  not  retain  the  flour,  and  when 
the  doors  opened  Phantom  arose  from  the  bench 
and  moving  to  the  edge  of  the  stage,  said: 
"I  still  retain  the  flour  in  my  hands." 
"Bedabs  it  wuzn't  flour  at  all  I  guve  yees.  It 
wuz  chalk." 

This  created  some  excitement,  till  Frank  Mere- 
dith, who  sat  behind  the  Pirate,  said: 

"Yes,  it  was  flour;  I  saw  it  in  your  hand." 
"Thin,  be  jabers,  they  fooled  me!" 
"Of   course    they    did,    Kelly,"    cried    several 
Vandals. 

"You  will  relight  the  lamp,"  said  the  Phantom 
to  his  assistants,  "and  remove  the  cabinet.  Now, 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  will  exhibit  to  you  the 
spirit-writing  in  letters  of  blood." 

After  removing  the  cabinet,  the  table  was 
brought  back  covered  with  a  black  cloth,  lapping 
about  six  inches  over  its  edges.  He  seated  him- 
self by  it,  first  removing  his  coat  and  rolling  up 
his  shirt  sleeves. 

"Now,  will  someone  ask  a  question?" 
"How  old  am  I?"  asked  Meredith. 
The    medium    immediately    placed   his    naked 
arm  beneath  the  table  and  the  other  above  it  in 
full  view  of  all. 

In  a  few  moments  he  drew  it  forth,  and,  leav- 
ing the  stage,  held  it  before  the  audience.  All 


io8   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

beheld  upon  it  in  blood-red  letters:  "Twenty-two 
years  and  six  months." 

"Correct.  That's  my  age,1*  answered  Mere- 
dith. 

Several  other  questions  were  then  proposed 
and  answered  in  the  same  manner. 

"I  will  show  you  another  spirit  manifestation 
of  the  power  of  writing.  Now  for  a  question." 

"How  old  was  my  father  when  he  died?"  said 
Johnson,  the  butcher. 

"You  see  that  sheet  of  paper,  upon  it  will  ap- 
pear the  answer.  It  is  blank,  as  you  see.  I  will 
now  apply  this  fluid  and  by  the  aid  of  spiritual 
power  the  reply  will  appear. 

"There  is  your  answer." 

"Sixty-one  years,"  read  the  butcher.  "Cor- 
rect," said  he,  as  he  handed  it  to  the  others  to 
examine. 

"I  will  now  close  the  seance,"  said  Phantom, 
"by  the  great  spiritual  manifestation  of  produc- 
ing Satan  before  you  in  visible  form.  This  de- 
moniacal spirit  will  impart  to  you  an  astounding 
secret  of  the  Haunted  House,  which  you  may  all 
see  proven.  A  secret  over  four  thousand  years 
old,  which  in  a  few  weeks  will  be  revealed." 

The  lights  were  extinguished.  And  by  the  dim 
light  emitted  from  the  brazier  the  audience 
watched  excitedly  amid  an  almost  breathless 
silence  the  movements  of  the  medium. 

Phantom  threw  a  mixture  into  the  Devil's  box, 
then  muttering  a  short  incantation,  he  applied  a 
burning  torch  to  the  contents.  A  dense  black 
smoke  arose.  As  the  vapor  grew  gradually 
brighter,  amid  it  (with  a  cry  of  horror  from  a 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       109 

number  of  persons  present)  appeared  the  black 
form  of  the  devil,  with  his  cloven  feet,  his  claw- 
like  hands,  and  his  long  tail  with  its  arrow-shaped 
end.  His  head  surmounted  by  two  horns,  his 
sharp  pointed  chin,  his  forked  tongue,  his  wild 
flaming  eyes,  and  the  diabolical  leer  on  his  face 
struck  terror  to  the  beholders. 

Amid  a  deep  silence,  the  demon  opened  his 
mouth  and  in  terrible  accents  spoke: 

"Mark  ye!  Mark  ye!  In  the  garden  of  yon 
Haunted  House,  of  St.  Arlyle,  near  its  entrance, 
stands  a  statue  enveloped  in  armor.  This  mail 
envelopes  an  Egyptian,  who  for  horrible  crimes 
was  doomed  to  remain  inanimate  for  forty  cen- 
turies. But  as  the  first  hour  of  the  new  year 
'dawns,  he  will  burst  his  bondage,  move  from  his 
pedestal  and  be  seen  no  more.  For  then  ends 
the  centuries  of  his  earthly  bondage.  Beware! 
Beware!  For  who  breathes  the  Egyptian's 
breath  looses  his  reason.  I — I  must  go  back  to 
hell!'; 

With  the  last  words  the  demon  vanished. 

"The  seance  is  at  an  end,"  said  the  medium. 

"And  the  end  of  the  spirit-business,  too,"  said 
a  Vandal. 

The  next  day  nearly  two-thirds  of  the  village 
visited  the  Haunted  House  and  gazed  at  the 
statue  clad  in  mail.  For  it  was  but  three  days 
before  the  new  year  when  the  statue  would  move 
away. 

The  legend  which  had  been  told  for  years  in 
the  village  concerning  this  statue  read,  that  :  "It 
was  a  mummy  in  armor,  which  the  former  owner 
of  the  Haunted  House,  who  was  a  great  traveller, 


no   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

brought  from  Egypt.  And  that  the  mummy  was 
not  really  dead,  but  had  been  doomed  for  a  thou- 
sand years  to  stand  inanimate  in  defiance  of  wear 
and  decay,  and  that — some  day,  the  Egyptian 
would  awake  from  his  lethean  sleep,  but  would 
live  long  enough  to  reach  his  former  home." 

The  eventful  new  year's  night  was  clear  and 
bright,  a  full  moon  illuminating  every  object. 
Hundreds  of  people  had  gathered,  waiting  for 
the  hour  of  mid-night. 

"It  wants  but  ten  minutes  of  the  hour,"  ex- 
claimed one. 

Then  another  said:  "We  have  but  five  min- 
utes more  to  wait." 

Then  the  time  dwindled  to  three  minutes. 
Then  it  lacked  but  one  minute,  and  each  looked 
eagerly  at  his  watch. 

"It  wants  but  half  a  minute!"  exclaimed  one. 
Then  conversation  ceased,  and  all  stood  with 
bated  breath  and  wildly  throbbing  hearts,  gaz- 
ing intently  at  the  statue. 

"But  five  seconds,"  whispered  one. 

Then  each  seemed  to  hold  his  breath  with 
eager  anticipation.  The  clock  in  the  church 
steeple  began  striking  the  last  hour  of  the  old 
year.  As  the  first  stroke  rang  out  on  the  air,  the 
figure  in  armour,  slightly  moved  on  its  pedestal, 
and  as  the  last  stroke  sounded,  it  stepped  from 
its  marble  base  and  strode  through  the  gate, 
which  opened  at  its  touch,  turned  down  the  street 
at  a  rapid  pace.  The  crowd  fled  in  all  directions, 
except  the  Vandals,  who  followed  after  the  statue 
yelling : 

"Hold  on,  old  Egypt!    Give  us  a  speech,  old 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       in 

man!  Ain't  you  going  to  be  sociable  after  your 
long  silence?" 

While  others  answered: 

"His  jaws  are  stiff!  He  can't  wag  'em!  He's 
lost  his  tongue!  He  can't  talk  our  language!" 

"Then  let  him  give  us  some  Egyptian,"  an- 
swered another. 

But  the  figure  in  armor  strode  on  until  it 
reached  the  river,  when  it  was  lost  to  view;  or, 
as  Jerry  Marshall  said:  "He  became  sort  of 
annihilated,  kind  of  Vandalized.  I  hoped  to 
have  interviewed  him  for  a  newspaper  article. 
It  would  have  been  a  fine  historical  sketch,  ever 
so  many  thousands  of  years  old.  But: 

Oh !  ever  thus,  from  childhood's  hour, 
I've  seen  my  fondest  hopes  decay !" 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE    ESTRANGEMENT. 

Alas !   how  light  a  cause  may  move, 
Dissension  between  hearts  that  love! 
And  sorrow  but  more  closely  tied; 
Hearts  that  the  world  in  vain  had  tried, 

That  stood  the  storms  when  waves  were  rough, 
Yet  in  a  sunny  hour  fall  off, 
Like  ships  that  have  gone  down  at  sea, 
When  heaven  was  all  tranquility. — Moore. 

^  It  was  the  close  of  a  bright  spring  day  as  Dr. 
Charles  Landon  walked  up  the  path  in  the  grove. 
A  day  that  he  did  not  dream  would  so  affect  his 
after  life  and  be  fraught  with  so  much  sadness 
to  him. 


ii2    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

As  he  sprang  over  the  stile  into  the  road,  he 
saw  Miss  Merton's  handsome  little  figure  slowly 
walking  alone  the  highway.  Although  she  was 
neajly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  he  knew  the 
petite  form  in  blue  in  an  instant.  And  as  his 
heart  beat  quicker  with  expected  pleasure,  he 
accelerated  his  pace  to  overtake  her.  She  saun- 
tered slowly  onward,  occasionally  glancing  back, 
as  if  expecting  some  one,  though  she  did  not  see 
him.  When  he  was  within  about  two  hundred 
yards  of  her  she  suddenly  caught  sight  of  a 
person  for  whom  she  had  evidently  been  waiting, 
for  she  immediately  hurried  forward  and  soon 
overtook  the  figure,  who  placed  an  arm  about  her. 
Landon  pressed  rapidly  forward  eagerly  scanning 
the  newcomer. 

He  knew  Miss  Merton  had  no  brothers,  or 
male  cousins,  and  it  was  certainly  not  her  father. 

"Heavens!  Bertie  is  false!"  he  exclaimed,  just 
as  her  musical  laugh  rang  out  on  the  evening  air. 
"False!"  he  continued,  "but  oh!  how  dearly  I 
love  her!" 

He  followed  them,  and  though  he  could  not 
hear  their  conversation,  he  could  see  their  ac- 
tions, and  catch  the  sound  of  Miss  Merton's 
merry  laughter.  Her  queenly  head  was  nestled 
as  contentedly  on  her  companion's  shoulder  as 
it  ever  had  been  on  his  own.  At  last  the  pair 
turned  into  a  path  leading  into  her  father's  gar- 
den, and  were  soon  lost  to  view.  He  turned  his 
steps  homeward  with  a  heavy  heart.  He  might 
have  seen  death  rob  him  of  his  idol  and  bowed 
submissively  to  God's  will,  but  for  her  to  prove 
false,  on  whose  faithfulness  he  would  have  more 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       113 

than  staked  his  life,  was  almost  more  than  he 
could  bear. 

j  "She  cannot  be  false!"  his  heart  kept  saying, 
but  his  cooler  reason  kept  arguing  her  faithless- 
ness. 

>  In  this  despondent  mood  he  reached  the  col- 
lege, and  entered  the  laboratory.  But  each  fa- 
miliar object  in  the  room  only  brought  back  to 
his  memory  the  happy  moments  they  had  spent 
together. 

f      "Happy  days,"   he   thought,    "I   never  more 
shall  know.    How  true  are  the  words  of  the  poet: 

'Ah !  tell  me  not  that  memory 

Sheds  gladness  o'er  the  past; 
What  is  recalled  by  faded  flowers, 

Save  that  they  did  not  last?'" 

He  could  not  bear  to  look  longer  at  them,  and 
flinging  himself  down  in  the  chair  by  the  window, 
he  sat  gazing  out  at  the  shadowy  scenery  fast  fad- 
ing in  the  twilight. 

"Thus,"  he  thought,  "as  fades  the  familiar 
scenes,  so  flies  my  happiness !" 

At  last,  even  the  room  grew  hot  and  oppres- 
sive. He  arose  and  went  out  into  the  cool  night 
air.  He  walked  about  at  random  like  one  in  a 
dream;  and  it  was  after  midnight  before  he  re- 
tired to  his  bed.  He  tossed  about  upon  the  pil- 
low till  daylight,  when  he  fell  into  a  light  slum- 
ber, disturbed  by  fantastic  dreams. 

The  next  day  he  attended  to  the  routine  of  du- 
ties, lecturing  before  the  students  as  usual.  A 
close  observer  could  see  no  change  in  his  man- 
ner or  his  face,  except  its  paleness.  Those  about 


I  [114  THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

I 

him  had  always  observed  his  calmness  amid 
dangers  and  difficulties,  and  now  in  his  greatest 
trial  his  habitual  coolness  did  not  desert  him. 

Early  in  the  forenoon,  he  sat  down  at  his  desk, 
and  wrote  a  short  note  to  Miss  Merton,  as  fol- 
lows: 

"My  DEAR  BERTIE: — I  thought  I  saw  you 
strolling  along  the  river  road  last  night  with  a 
man's  arm  about  your  waist     Was  I  mistaken? 
I  know  we  are  all  liable  to  err;  and  in  the  depth 
of  my  heart  I  hope  for  once  that  my  vision  has 
played  me  false.     Craving  your  pardon,  my  darl- 
ing, for  even  doubting  your  love  and  truth, 
I  remain,        Ever  yours  affectionately, 
CHARLES  LANDON." 

Hastily  posting  the  letter,  he  waited  anxiously 
all  that  day,  and  the  next  for  an  answer,  but  none 
came. 

"She  does  not  consider  it  worth  the  trouble  to 
reply,"  he  thought. 

He  paced  the  floor  of  his  room  the  greater 
part  of  that  night.  Late  in  the  evening,  receiv- 
ing no  answer  from  Miss  Merton,  he  wrote 
again: 

"Miss  BERTHA  MERTON: 

Dear  Miss: — I  suppose  you  do  not  consider 
it  worth  the  trouble  to  explain.  I  also  suppose 
that  our  engagement  has  become  distasteful  to 
you,  as  well  as  to  myself.  And  where  there  is 
no  union  of  hearts,  mere  pledges  of  love  are  a 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       115 

mockery.     I  should  very  much  like  to  meet  you 
if  agreeable.  I  remain, 

Ever  your  true  friend, 

CHARLES  LANDON." 

The  first  letter  Miss  Merton  did  not  receive, 
for  some  unaccountable  reason.  But  the  last  one 
she  took  from  the  post-office,  and  her  heart  beat 
quicker,  as  she  recognized  Dr.  Landon's  hand- 
writing. She  tore  open  the  envelope  and  read 
its  contents.  Her  heart  gave  one  wild  bound  of 
terror,  ,and  then  it  seemed  as  if  it  had  ceased  to 
beat.  Her  face  grew  as  pale  as  marble,  and  she 
would  have  fallen,  had  she  not  supported  herself 
against  a  column;  but  recovering  her  self-posses- 
sion, she  walked  rapidly  homeward,  her  mind 
dazed  and  bewildered.  She  went  directly  to  her 
room.  As  she  entered  it,  she  caught  sight  of  her 
face  in  the  mirror,  now  so  sad  and  destitute  of 
color  that  it  almost  frightened  her.  She  sat 
calmly  down  and  read  the  cruel  letter  through, 
every  word  striking  anguish  into  her  heart. 
When  she  had  finished,  she  exclaimed,  in  the 
deepest  agony: 

"Oh!  my  brightest  hopes  are  blasted!  I  never 
knew  till  now,  how  deeply  I  loved  him !  Can  it 
be  possible,  with  all  his  nobleness,  that  he  is  false? 
Oh!  how  I  have  trusted  him!  Trusted,  as  I 
would  my  faith  in  heaven!  My  sorrow  seems 
more  than  I  can  bear!" 

Then,  unable  to  control  her  anguish  any  longer, 
she  threw  herself  upon  the  bed  and  burst  into  a 
flood  of  passionate  tears.  It  seemed  as  if  her 
young  heart  would  break  with  the  terrible  pain 


n6   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

tearing  at  its  very  core.  Was  there  no  relief 
from  her  agony,  she  thought.  At  last  nature 
could  bear  no  more,  and  she  swooned. 

How  long  she  remained  insensible,  she  never 
knew,  but  when  she  regained  consciousness,  it 
was  quite  dark. 

When  her  father  rapped  on  the  door,  calling 
her  to  supper,  she  excused  herself,  pleading  a 
headache.  And  her  head  did  ache,  but  not  half 
as  badly  as  her  heart. 

Cousin  May  was  absent  from  home,  so  she  was 
left  alone  with  her  grief.  She  retired  early,  but 
not  to  sleep.  Through  that  long  night  it  seemed 
as  if  her  young  hopes  were  crushed,  never  to 
rise  again,  and  her  pillow  was  wet  with  tears. 
The  next  day  she  bravely  bore  her  grief  without 
a  murmur,  though  her  face  was  paler  than  ever. 
So  she  remained  in  her  room,  not  daring  to  show 
her  too  evident  suffering. 

The  next  day  she  decided  to  answer  Dr.  Lan- 
don's  letter.  It  was  a  hard  task,  but  her  pride 
came  bravely  to  her  rescue,  and  she  began: 

"DR.  CHARLES  LANDON: — 

Dear  Sir: — I   received  your  letter,   in  which 
you  wished  to  annul  our  engagement.     Certainly, 
let  us  sever  the  bond  that  has  become  so  distaste- 
ful to  you.    I  am  very  sorry  that  it  has  enthralled 
you  even  for  a  moment.     Hoping  that  our  en- 
gagement has  caused  you  no  inconvenience, 
I  remain 
Ever  your  friend, 

BERTHA  MERTON. 
"P.  S. — I  regret,   that  I  cannot  meet  you  at 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       117 

present,  as  I  am  not  well.     I  will  send  you  your 
letters  and  gifts  in  a  few  days.  B.  M." 

She  signed  the  letter  with  a  steady  hand, 
though  she  felt  as  if  she  were  putting  her  signa- 
ture to  the  death  warrant  of  her  happiness. 

"Thus  fades  my  brightest  dream  of  life.  He 
is  so  wise  and  handsome,  but  so  false !  Yet  I  love 
him  still!" 

The  next  day  she  returned  his  letters  and  gifts, 
while  dreaming  over  the  happy  days, 

"Now  anchored  in  memory's  sky." 

No,  not  all  his  gifts;  she  retained  his  portrait 
in  the  locket  on  her  bosom.  As  she  opened  it, 
and  scanned  its  well  known  features,  a  sad  smile 
played  on  her  face. 

"No,  I  cannot  give  it  up.  It  is  the  only  picture 
of  him  I  have  left.  Perhaps  he  will  not  remem- 
ber it.  How  foolish  in  me  to  love  him,  after  he 
has  flung  me  from  his  heart!  But,  by  and  by, 
I  shall  learn  to  forget  him." 

When  Miss  Merton  left  her  room  and  min- 
gled again  with  the  household,  each  noticed  that 
her  face,  though  still  plump  and  dimpled,  had 
grown  as  white  as  marble,  and  her  pretty  black 
eyes  wore  a  sad  expression,  while  ever  and  anon 
a  tear  shone  on  the  long  drooping  lashes. 

On  her  cousin's  return,  she  met  her  in  the  hall. 

"Come  in  my  room,  May,  and  I'll  tell  you 
all." 

Entering  the  room,  she  handed  her  Dr.  Lan- 


n8   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

don's    letter.      The    handsome    blonde    read    it 
through,  in  silence,  then  exclaimed: 

"Why,  he  is  a  cruel  scoundrel!" 

"Hush,  May,  don't  say  that,  I  love  him  too 
well  to  hear  him  abused,"  cried  Bertha,  passion- 
ately. 

"But  he  must  have  some  reason  for  wishing  to 
break  the  engagement.  Don't  you  know  the 
cause  for  his  strange  action?" 

"None  whatever.  I  knew  nothing,  till  I  re- 
ceived this  letter." 

"Bertha,  meet  him  as  he  desires,  and  ask  an 
explanation." 

"Ask  him  not  to  break  our  engagement?  No, 
never!"  she  exclaimed  passionately. 

"No,  I  do  not  mean  that,  my  poor  girl.  Give 
him  an  opportunity  to  explain  his  strange  con- 
duct." 

"No,  May,"  she  answered  sadly,  her  eyes  fill- 
ing with  tears,  "it  is  humiliation  enough  to  think 
that  he  valued  my  love  so  lightly  as  to  throw  it 
aside  without  even  giving  a  reason!" 

"But,  Bertie,  dear,  he  has  some  pretext  for 
his  conduct.  And  I  intend  to  find  it  out!" 

And  with  a  woman's  tact  and  energy,  she  did, 
but  not  till  long  afterward  when  too  late  to 
change  the  course  of  events. 

Miss  Wentworth  learned  that  Dr.  Landon  had 
seen  Bertie  walking  along  the  river  road  with  a 
man's  arm  about  her  waist,  on  a  certain  evening. 
That  evening,  she  remembered  very  well,  for  she 
and  Bertie  took  a  walk  along  the  road  and  met 
Ned  Wilberton,  when  Miss  Merton  facetiously 
declared  that  two  were  company,  and  three  were 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       119 

a  crowd!  So  she  left  them  to  visit  a  lady  friend. 
When  she  returned,  it  was  late,  and  her  cousin 
had  been  waiting  some  time  for  her. 

The  evening  grew  cold,  though  the  day  had 
been  quite  warm,  and  May  having  brought  no 
shawl,  and  suffering  from  a  severe  cold,  caught 
the  day  before,  her  lover  persuaded  her  to  put  on 
his  overcoat,  remarking  that  no  one  would  see 
her  in  the  dark. 

When  she  met  Bertie,  the  latter  exclaimed  with 
a  laugh: 

"Why,  May,  you  make  a  first-class  man." 

It  was  the  two  cousins,  whom  Dr.  Charles  Lan- 
don  had  followed. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  FAREWELL. 

One  struggle  more,   and  I  am  free 
From  pangs  that  rend  my  heart  in  twain! 

One  long  last  sigh    to  love  and  thee, 
Then  back  to  busy  life  again. — Byron. 

Dr.  Charles  Landon  was  sitting  in  his  labora- 
tory at  the  close  of  the  bright  spring  day  when  he 
received  Miss  Merton's  answer  to  his  last  letter. 
After  reading  it  he  murmured,  "It  is  all  over  at 
last.  The  bright  days  have  fled.  But  I  shall 
love  her  as  long  as  my  heart  beats.  Sweet  mem- 
ories tinged  with  sadness  cling  around  her  still. 
Though  lost,  'tis  sweet  to  remember  love's  thrills 
of  joy.  For  'tis  said  true  love  is  the  seraphic 
flower  of  earth  that  draws  us  nearest  heaven;  it 
is  the  only  unselfish  passion  of  life." 


120  THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

It  was  his  last  evening  in  the  old  familiar 
room,  for  he  felt  the  erratic  spirit  he  had  long 
thought  dead,  coming  back  with  more  than  its 
former  force;  so  he  resolved  to  leave  the  old 
scenes  and  in  a  new  field  of  action  perhaps  for- 
get the  old  life,  or  at  least  bury  it  in  the  clash  of 
strife  or  death.  For  it  was  just  at  this  time  that 
the  American  Civil  War  burst  upon  the  nation. 
Fort  Sumter  had  fallen  and  every  city  and  village 
in  the  United  States  was  wild  with  excitement 
over  the  coming  struggle.  Soldiers  were  enlist- 
ing in  every  part  of  the  country  and  moving  to 
the  front  to  join  in  the  first  great  battle,  soon  to 
be  fought  between  the  divided  sections  of  the 
nation,  and  Dr.  Charles  Landon  had  concluded 
to  take  his  stand  under  the  uOld  Flag,"  and  do 
his  humble  part  in  the  struggle. 

"Why  should  I  shrink  duty's  post,  when  I  have 
so  little  to  relinquish,  while  others  are  leaving 
wives  and  sweethearts  behind  at  their  country's 
call?  Amid  a  soldier's  exciting  duty,  I  shall  have 
little  time  to  think,  and  if  I  fall,  then  this  heart 
will  be  free  from  every  pang." 

As  he  sat  for  the  last  time  watching  the  fa- 
miliar scenes  grow  dim  in  the  fast  fading  day- 
light the  old  life  seemed  fleeting,  too,  with  all  its 
joys  and  tears.  And  there  in  the  quiet  summer 
evening  he  resolved  to  forgive,  and  as  far  as  his 
heart  could,  forget  the  past,  and  begin  a  new 
work  on  the  ashes  of  the  old. 

Charles  Landon  took  a  wrong  course  that 
night,  but  like  many  others,  he  did  not  see  it  till 
long  years  after. 

He  had  fallen  into  a  deep  reverie  in  the  even- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       121 

ing  twilight  when  he  was  aroused  by  the  entrance 
of  half  a  dozen  friends. 

"Hallo,   Doctor,  playing  solitaire?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered  absently. 

Then  the  conversation  turned  on  the  war  and 
Landon  asked: 

"What's  the  latest  news?" 

"St.  Arlyle  is  raising  two  companies  for  the  war, 
one  is  to  be  commanded  by  Marshall  and  the 
other  by  Tom  Gleaton.  Nearly  all  the  Vandals 
have  enlisted,  and  nearly  half  the  young  men  in 
town." 

"What  do  you  think  of  it,  Doctor?" 

"The  country  was  never  more  in  need  of  sol- 
diers than  now;  I  shall  offer  my  services." 

"Bravo!"  cried  several,  "you're  just  the  man 
for  Colonel." 

The  conversation  ran  on,  the  merits  of  the  con- 
flict was  discussed,  and  it  was  late  before  they 
parted. 

Two  days  after  it  became  generally  known 
that  Landon  had  been  commissioned  the  Colonel 
of  nine  companies,  seven  enlisted  in  the  neighbor- 
ing towns,  and  two  raised  in  St.  Arlyle.  His 
experience  in  fighting  Indians  in  the  western  ter- 
ritories and  his  early  education  at  a  military 
school  pointed  to  him  as  the  proper  man. 

Thomas  Gleaton  and  Marshall  had  been  com- 
missioned captains  of  the  two  companies  raised 
in  the  village;  Ned  Stanton  had  given  up  the 
study  of  law,  and  had  been  made  a  second  lieu- 
tenant. Frank  Meredith,  just  graduated,  had 
been  appointed  a  surgeon,  while  Kelly  the  pirate, 
Dave  Anderson,  Jo  Green,  and  other  Vandals 


122   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

were  made,  as  Kelly  remarked  "high  privates  in 
the  rear  rank." 

For  about  a  week  the  regiment  was  encamped 
at  the  edge  of  the  village,  and  daily  drilling  be- 
gan to  convert  the  raw  recruits  into  soldiers. 

At  last  the  important  day  came  when  the  troops 
were  to  leave  for  the  field  of  strife.  Nearly  the 
whole  town  had  turned  out  to  bid  farewell  to  the 
soldiers.  The  space  around  the  camp  was 
thronged  with  an  excited  crowd,  from  early 
morning  till  the  troops  moved  away.  It  was  a 
lovely  June  day,  and  the  earth  and  the  trees  were 
dressed  in  their  brightest  green.  At  eleven 
o'clock  the  troops  fell  into  line  for  the  last  time 
in  St.  Arlyle,  and  forming  into  a  column,  Landon 
gave  the  command,  "Forward,  March."  The 
band  struck  up  a  national  air,  the  regiment  moved 
down  the  street  toward  the  railway  station.  They 
formed  an  imposing  picture,  with  their  bright 
blue  uniforms,  and  gleaming  bayonets,  and  their 
flags  floating  out  on  the  gentle  breeze.  Landon 
rode  at  their  head,  and  upon  his  figure  Bertie's 
eyes  became  riveted  in  a  moment.  She  thought 
she  had  never  seen  him  look  so  handsome  as  now 
in  his  dark  blue  uniform  encircled  by  a  red  sash 
and  the  golden  eagle:;  on  each  shoulder,  while  his 
dark  brown  hair  clustered  in  curls  beneath  his 
hat,  forming  a  dark  frame  to  his  pale,  handsome 
face. 

The  soldiers  reached  the  station  and  stood  in 
broken  ranks,  waiting  for  the  train  and  bidding 
farewell  to  friends. 

Bertie  drove  to  the  station  and  as  she  alighted 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       123 

./•• 

from  the  buggy,  Landon  saw  her,  and  leaving  the 
station  went  toward  the  spot. 

He  had  called  twice  the  previous  night  to  see 
her,  but  she  had  refused  to  meet  him.  But  that 
morning,  repenting  her  action,  she  sent  him  a  note 
informing  him  that  she  would  meet  him  at  the  sta- 
tion; the  old  tender  feeling  coming  back,  she 
longed  to  see  him  again,  perhaps  for  the  last  time. 

Reaching  her  side  he  held  out  his  hand  and 
said  with  a  smile : 

"Good  morning,  Miss  Merton." 

"Good  morning,"  she  answered  calmly,  as  she 
felt  her  eyes  drop  before  his  gaze,  but  not  before 
she  had  noticed  how  pale  his  face  had  grown. 
Though  her  heart  beat  wildly  she  spoke  so  calmly 
that  her  voice  sounded  strange  and  cold  even  to 
herself,  while  Dr.  Landon's  calm  voice  and  man- 
ner showed  no  signs  of  the  storm  of  emotion 
struggling  in  his  breast. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  then  she  said  in 
the  same  cold  tone,  but  with  a  strong  effort: 

"You  are  going  away?" 

"Yes,  I  shall  try  and  do  my  part  for  my  coun- 
try. This  quiet  life  has  no  charm  for  me  now," 
he  added  bitterly.  "You  know,"  he  said,  smil- 
ing, "a  good  soldier  must  wear  his  heart  at  will." 

At  this  moment  the  train  thundered  up  to  the 
station,  and  there  were  but  a  few  moments  ere 
they  must  part.  She  looked  up  into  his  face  and 
in  a  sweet  voice  that  had  a  tone  of  sadness  in  it, 
said: 

"I  wish  you  great  success,  may  you  pass  un- 
scathed through  the  fields  of.  battle;  good-bye 
and  may  happiness  be  with  you." 


124   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Farewell,"  he  answered,  "I  shall  never  forget 
you,  'though  it  may  be  for  years,  it  may  be  for- 
ever I'" 

"Farewell,  and  God  be  with  you !" 

He  unclasped  her  hand,  hurried  to  the  car,  and 
in  a  few  moments  the  train  rolled  away  from 
view. 

Miss  Merton  rode  home  like  one  in  a  dream, 
with  a  terrible  pain  at  her  heart  On  entering 
her  room  she  threw  herself  upon  the  bed.  Then 
the  tears  she  had  restrained  so  long  burst  forth 
in  a  flood  as  she  said:  "Oh,  how  I  love  him! 
Oh,  how  I  love  him!" 

It  is  said  that  when  a  woman  has  a  "good  cry," 
she  always  feels  better.  It  relieves  her  over- 
charged nervous  system.  For  it  is  a  well  known 
fact  to  surgeons  that,  tears  alleviate  pain,  physi- 
cal and  mental,  in  both  women  and  men;  but 
more  particularly  in  the  fair  sex. 

After  her  paroxysm  of  grief,  she  arose  and 
bathing  her  face,  went  down  stairs  and  took  her 
old  place  in  life  again.  But  with  a  scarred  and 
wounded  heart. 

"We  look  before  and  after, 

And  pine  for  what  is  naught; 
Our   sincerest   laughter 
With  some  pain  is  fraught." 


PART  II. 
THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      127 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE   LAST  MEETING  OF  THE  VANDAL  CLUB. 

Here's  a  parting  clasp  and  a  parting  smile, 
For  the  good  old  days  of  yore. 

The  Saturday  night  before  the  regiment 
marched  away  to  the  field  of  battle,  the  Vandal 
club  held  its  last  meeting.  Important  business 
was  announced  for  that  night :  it  was  nothing  less 
than  to  make  arrangements  for  the  exposure  of 
THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY. 

There  was  a  large  attendance,  every  member 
of  the  club  being  present.  Tom  Gleaton  occu- 
pied the  chair,  while  near  him  were  seated  Dick 
Lex,  Ned  Stanton,  the  law  student,  and  Frank 
Meredith,  just  graduated,  and  who  had  been  ap- 
pointed a  surgeon  in  the  regiment.  On  a  bench 
near  the  window  sat  Dave  Johnson,  Anderson, 
Foghorn  Joe,  (who  received  this  sobriquet  from 
the  fact  of  his  having  once  engineered  a  steam  fog 
whistle),  Blowhard  Jack,  and  fire  tail  Bill,  (thus 
nick  named  on  account  of  his  excitable  disposi- 
tion), Kelly  the  Pirate,  and  Professor  Phantom. 
The  last  three  were  seated  on  a  couple  of  boxes 
in  a  corner,  while  the  tailor,  "Governor"  Elton 
was  engaged  in  cooking  his  supper. 

After  calling  the  roll  and  reading  the  minutes 


128   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

of  the  last  meeting,  the  chairman  said:  "The 
first  order  of  business  is  the  report  of  the  com- 
mittee on  marriage. " 

"The  report,"  said  Marshall,  "is  favorable 
on  the  marriage  of  James  Moore  to  Susan  Plenty, 
and  may  they  pull  well  together  in  the  double 
team  of  life: 

Although  she  was  Plenty, 

Yet,  still  she  wanted  Moore, 
Perhaps,  since  she's  got  him, 

She'll  want  a  little  more." 

"The  committee  also  reports  favorably  on  the 
wedding  of  Thomas  Williams  to  Mary  Williams. 
But  they  think  the  Bills  have  got  sadly  mixed." 

"But,"  answered  Gleaton,  "both  Bills  have 
been  presented  and  accepted.  And  they  will  now 
proceed  to  issue  small  Bills." 

"The  third  wedding,"  said  Marshall,  "of 

Jane  Mirror  to  James  Glass, 
Is  a  very  brittle  wedding, 
But  still,  we'll  let  it  pass!" 

"The  next  order  of  business  is  the  reading  of 
communications.  The  secretary,  Captain  Mar- 
shall, will  read  Sam  Green's  letter  from  Southern 
California." 

Marshall  read  as  follows: 

"DEAR  JIM,  AND  OTHER  VANDALS  : 

"It  is  some  time  since  I  heard  from  any  of  you. 

Between  the   Indians  and   Mexicans  we  have  it 

right  lively  here. 

"I  got  in  a  row  with  them  Cannon  boys.     They 

live  just  below  us.      They  are  a  mighty  tough 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       129 

pair,  decidedly  on  the  shoot,  that  is,  they  used  to 
be;  they  made  it  extremely  lively  for  me  a  while. 
They  shot  part  of  my  nose  and  one  ear  away 
and  put  a  bullet  in  my  skin.  But  I  scooped  'em 
in.  I  layed  behind  the  old  pig-pen  with  my  old 
goose-gun,  with  nigh  a  pound  of  buck  shot  in 
each  barrel.  I  shot  off  Pete's  left  leg,  and  Tom's 
right  arm. 

"Now,  boys,  I  want  you  to  send  two  pistols,  a 
bowie  knife  and  a  rifle,  and  five  hundred  rounds 
of  cartridge.  Because  when  them  Cannon  boys 
come  fooling  around  here,  I  want  to  be  a  sort 
of  walking  battery. 

"I  don't  look  like  I  did,  since  I  lost  part  of  an 
ear  and  got  my  nose  knocked  out  of  plumb. 

"You  might  send  us  a  couple  of  newspapers, 
we  sometimes  feel  literary,  that  is,  when  the  Can- 
non boys  ain't  around.  Then  it's  too  lively  to 
read. 

"My  respects  to  the  boys, 

Yours  very  truly, 

SAM  GREEN. 

"P.S.  I  am  a  mighty  sight  better  shot  than  I 
was,  I've  been  practicing  on  stray  Indians  around 
town.  S.G." 

"It   must   be    an   extremely   lively   place   out 

there,"  said  one. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  editor,  "a  good  place  to 
get  annihilated,  kind  of  Vandalized." 

"I  suppose,"  said  Gleaton,  "they  adopt, 

'The  good  old  rule,  the  simple  plan, 
That  he  should  take  who  has  the  power, 
And  he  should  keep  who  can.'" 


130   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

At  this  moment  Elton  was  called  into  the  front 
room  and  immediately  a  raid  was  made  on  the 
food,  as  Marshall  quoted: 

"'The  world's  a  well-furnished  table, 

Where  guests  are  promiscuously  set, 
Where  all  fare  as  well  as  they're  able, 
And  scramble  for  what  they  can  get.'" 

The  bread,  meat,  eggs,  cake  and  preserves, 
were  soon  devoured,  and  as  the  crowd  finished 
the  coffee,  Gleaton  remarked : 

"This  is  worse  than  the  barbarian's  descent  on 
Rome." 

"Yes,"  answered  the  editor,  "sort  of  annihil- 
ated, kind  of  Vandalized  the  'Governor's'  sup- 
per." 

A  few  minutes  after  Elton  entered  and  stood 
gazing  in  amazement  at  the  empty  plates. 

"Well,  boys,  I  have  had  my  supper  or  else 
you've  had  yours." 

"Be  gorra,  it's  kind  of  evaporated,"  said 
Kelly. 

Elton  said  nothing  more  but  began  cooking 
again. 

"The  next  report  is  that  of  the  committee  on 
fighting." 

"Well,"  said  Dave  Johnson,  "there  were  two 
fights  since  our  last  report,  one  of  them  was  be- 
tween the  two  bakers.  It  didn't  amount  to  much, 
it  was  more  talking  than  fighting." 

"Yes,"  said  Marshall, 

"In  every  age  and  clime  we  see, 
Two  of  a  trade  can  ne'er  agree/" 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      131 

"The  other  row  was  between  Kelly  and  Bullet- 
head,  a  continuation  of  the  old  fight." 

"Then  it  can't  be  reported  here;  it  comes  under 
the  head  of  unfinished  business,"  said  the  chair. 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that,  but  I  tell 
yees  he  finished  me!" 

"Now  comes  the  committee's  report  on  news 
about  town." 

Frank  Meredith,  who  was  chairman  of  the 
committee,  arose  and  said: 

"It  is  rather  meager,  so  I  will  give  it  to  you 
in  a  nutshell,  so  to  speak.  Tom  Flanagan  started 
a  whiskey  saloon  in  the  old  trunk  factory.  The 
boys  got  a  ladder  and  climbing  up  erased  the  T 
and  painted  a  D,  making  it  read  Drunk  Factory." 

"Good!  bravo!  very  appropriate,"  cried 
several. 

"Old  Jones  went  home  the  other  night,"  con- 
tinued Meredith,  three  seas  over,  in  fact,  drunk; 
the  boys  had  stretched  half  a  dozen  ropes  across 
the  side  walk,  and  as  he  fell  over  the  fourth  one, 
he  said: 

14  *  Tears  to  me  (hie)  the  road's  a  little  un- 
even to-night.  But  (hie)  there's  nothing  like 
perseverance  to  climb  a  hill.'  ' 

'Oh,  wad  some  power  the  giftie  gie  us, 
To  see  oursels  as  ithers  see  us.' " 

• 

Meredith  resumed,  "Charlie  Wilson  lost  his 
sweetheart  the  other  night  under  very  sad  cir- 
cumstances. Very  painful  to  them  both,  but  more 
particularly  to  her. 

"Charlie  lives  in  a  little  cottage  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  village  all  by  himself;  but  he  hoped 


132   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

soon  to  have  had  Miss  Emma  Thorne  to  share 
the  joys  of  life  with  him, 

'But  the  best  layed  plans  of  men 
And  mice  gang  aft  aglee/ 

"A  few  nights  since,  Wilson  was  very  much 
annoyed  by  the  boys  ringing  his  door  bell  and  then 
slipping  behind  the  fence  to  see  the  fun  and  hear 
him  call  them  uncomplimentary  names. 

"They  repeated  the  trick  five  or  six  times,  and 
at  last  Charley's  patience  was  exhausted,  so  he 
resolved  to  make  an  example  of  one  of  them;  he 
took  his  position  behind  the  door  and  waited  for 
a  victim.  Just  at  this  time  his  betrothed  and 
another  young  lady  were  passing,  and  she  said 
to  her  companion: 

"  'I'm  going  to  play  a  joke  on  Charley  !'  Leav- 
ing her  companion,  Miss  Thorne  ran  lightly  up 
the  steps,  and  pulling  the  bell  started  to  get  be- 
hind a  column;  but  Charley  sprang  out  of  the 
door,  and  gave  her  a  kick  as  he  yelled — 

"  'There,  you  darned  fool !  I  guess,  I  kicked 
you  higher  than  the  moon!' 

"She  sailed  out  into  space,  over  a  couple  of 
rose  bushes  and  landed  in  the  middle  of  the  grass 
plot.  The  boys  in  the  street  gave  a  wild  yell  that 
would  have  shamed  an  Indian  war  dance,  and 
then  fled. 

"Charley  hastened  to  his  betrothed,  but  she 
arose  and  casting  one  withering  glance  of  con- 
tempt at  him  departed.  She  won't  even  look  at 
him  now;  and  he  sits  and  ponders  on  what  might 
have  been." 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       133 

Suggested  Marshall,  "she  must  have  felt  sort 
of  annihilated,  kind  of  Vandalized!" 

"That  expresses  it  exactly,"  replied  Meredith. 

"Several  persons  in  the  village,"  continued 
Meredith,  "have  been  talking  about  it.  In  fact, 
they  said  we  were  a  lot  of  rascals,  rogues,  etc. 
I  believe  in  going  for  them  in  return;  what  does 
the  club  think?" 

"I  would  suggest,"  said  Gleaton,  "that  we 
adopt  in  this  matter  the  principle  of  Frederick  the 
Great,  who  said  that  he  had  made  an  agreement 
with  his  subjects,  that  they  were  to  say  what  they 
pleased  and  he  was  to  do  what  he  pleased." 

This  suggestion  was  put  in  the  form  of  a 
motion,  and  immediately  carried. 

"Old  Sam  Jones  got  intoxicated  the  other 
night,  and  started  home  with  a  jug  of  whisky.  As 
he  was  climbing  over  the  fence  enclosing  his  yard, 
thinking  of  'little  brown  jug  how  I  love  thee,'  the 
top  rail  broke,  he  fell  on  one  side  and  the  jug 
on  the  other.  The  cork  came  out  of  the  jug, 
but  he  was  too  drunk  to  get  up  again.  And  as 
the  whiskey  ran  out,  it  went  goody !  good !  goody ! 
'Yes/  said  he,  'I  know  you're  good,  but  I  can't 
gityer!" 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  VANDAL  CLUB. 

We're  bidding  now   a  sad   adieu 
To  the  dream-lit  years  gone  bv 

"The  next  order  of  business,  is  the  report  on 
The  Village  Mystery,"  said  the  chairman. 


134   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Ned  Stanton  arose  and  began:  "We  have  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  these  spectral  illusions  and 
ghostly  performances,  have  been  carried  far 
enough;  and  as  this  is  the  last  meeting  of  the 
Vandal  congress  it  becomes  our  duty  to  expose 
them." 

"I  object,"  cried  Phantom. 

"Yes,"  said  Marshall,  "I  have  no  doubt,  for 
like  Othello,  'your  occupation's  gone/  ' 

"It's  no  use,  Phantom,"  exclaimed  the  Pirate, 
"the  jig's  up.  Ye's  got  ter  go!" 

"Yes,"  remarked  Gleaton,  "the  play's  ended. 
It's  time  to  drop  the  curtain !  But,"  he  continued, 
"there  seems  to  be  some  opposition  to  the  ex- 
posure of  the  Village  Mystery.  I  will  now  put  it 
to  the  sense  of  the  club.  Will  some  one  make  the 
motion?" 

Marshall  arose  and  read: 

"Resolved:  That  the  Vandal  club  now  fully 
expose  the  Village  Mystery,  including  all  strange, 
ghostly,  spiritual  and  supernatural  performances, 
or  occurrences. 

"Also,  resolved:  That  being  deficient  in  scien- 
tific knowledge,  we  request  Dr.  Charles  Landon 
to  aid  us  with  his  scientific  attaintainments,  in  the 
performance  of  the  same." 

These  motions  were  immediately  carried,  there 
being  only  one  dissenting  voice,  that  of  Phantom. 

"It  is  carried,  and  the  exposure  of  the  Mys- 
tery will  begin  on  Monday  next.  In  the  mean- 
time, our  friend  Professor  Phantom  will  have 
time  to  depart,  if  he  wishes  to  do  so." 

"It's  no  use  Phantom,"   said  Marshall,   "it's 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       135 

time  to  ring  the  curtain  down.     The  audience  has 
had  enough  of  the  play. 

'Farewell,  a  long  farewell,  to  all  your  greatness; 
This  is  the  state  of  man/  " 

"Shure,"  said  the  Pirate,  interrupting,  "it's 
time  fur  Phantom  to  evaporate,  as  will  as  the 
ghosts." 

"The  next  subject  before  the  club  is  the  war," 
said  Gleaton.  "As  there  is  no  committee  on  the 
belligerent  art,  the  club  will  resolve  itself  into  a 
committee  of  the  whole,  and  briefly  discuss  it  as 
the  hour  is  late,  and  it  is  nearly  time  to  adjourn. 

"I  am  pleased,"  he  continued,  "to  see  that  so 
many  of  you  have  enlisted  under  the  'old  flag/ 
and  are  going  forward  to  do  your  duty  for  your 
country  on  the  field  of  battle." 

Marshall  arose  and  said: 

"Comrades:  It  is  with  pleasure  and  with  pride 
that  I  see  you  have  resolved  to  take  your  stand 
for  the  best  republic  a  flag  ever  floated  over. 
There  may  be  at  times,  wrong  things  done  by 
those  who  hold  power  in  the  government,  but  it 
is  not  the  fault  of  the  republic  but  the  bad  deeds 
of  unprincipled  men,  who  must  and  will  be  crushed 
in  the  end.  Then  let  us  do  our  duty  to  liberty 
and  the  republic,  and  remember, 

The  sword  may  pierce  the  bearer, 
Stone  walls  in  time  may  sever — 
'Tis  the  heart  alone,  worth  steel  and  stone, 
That  keeps  men  free  forever!" 

He  sat  down  amid  a  burst  of  applause,  as  the 
chairman  called, 


136   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"We  will  now  give  our  farewell  toasts;  but  you 
must  be  brief,  as  it  is  growing  late." 

When  they  had  filled  their  glasses  they  all 
sprang  to  their  feet  and  Meredith  gave  the  first 
toast. 

"Here's  to  the  Vandal  club;  and  may  we  pass 
unharmed  through  the  fields  of  blood,  and  meet 
again  when  the  war  is  over." 

"Here's  to  our  Colonel,  Charles  Landon;  may 
he  pass  untouched  through  the  fields  of  death,  and 
may  fame  place  her  laurel  wreath  on  his  brow." 

Said  Marshall:  "Here's  to  the  ladies!  The 
fairest  and  brightest  stars  of  earth  to  guide  us  in 
the  noble  paths  of  duty,  and  the  pleasant  paths  of 
love.  The  most  fascinating  book  in  all  romance, 
whose  pages  we  never  grow  weary  of  reading,  for 
we  find  them  ever  new.  For  women  are  the 
deepest  and  sweetest  mysteries  of  all.  And  may 
our  love  ever  cherish  their  devotion,  and  our  arms 
ever  be  ready  to  defend  and  encircle  them!" 

"Now,"  said  the  chairman  as  they  drank  the 
last  toast,  "we  will  sing  our  farewell  song:  'The 
Good  Old  Days  of  Yore.'  ' 

Then  followed,  "Auld  Lang  Syne,"  and  as  the 
last  words  echoed  through  the  room,  Gleaton 
arose  and  said: 

"Comrades:  It  becomes  my  sad  duty  to  bid 
farewell  to  the  club,  ere  we  wander  down  the  dif- 
ferent paths  of  life.  Sad,  because  through  the 
flooding  years  we  may  never  meet  again.  For 
amid  the  shock  of  battle,  some  of  us,  perhaps 
many  of  us  must  fall !  But  whatever  fate  has  in 
store  for  us,  let  as  meet  it  like  men  and  be  true 
to  each  other,  true  to  our  country,  true  to  our 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       137 

fellow  man,  and,  above  all,  let  us  be  true  to 
Heaven.  Yet,  I  hope  that  when  the  dark  vista 
has  cleared  away — that  mystic  book  of  the  future, 
whose  leaves  God  alone  can  turn — we  shall  meet 
again  amid  the  old  familiar  scenes. 
"Till  then: 

"Farewell — a  word  that  has  been  and  must  be, 
A  sound  that  makes  us  linger — yet  farewell." 

"I  now  adjourn  the  Vandal  club,  sine  die!" 

There  was  a  silence  for  several  moments,  then 
they  arose  and,  filing  out  of  the  room,  one  after 
another,  they  shook  hands  for  the  last  time  with 
Elton,  and  sadly  bade  him  farewell  in  such  words 
as: 

"Good  bye,  old  fellow;  we'll  not  forget  you!" 

uYes,  good  bye,  we'll  keep  you  in  remem- 
brance." 

"Good  bye!"  "Good  bye!"  "Good  bye!"  re- 
peated one  after  another  as  they  departed. 

A  tear  glistened  in  the  old  man's  eyes  as  he 
bade  adieu,  perhaps  forever  he  thought,  to  those 
associates  he  had  known  for  nearly  twenty  years. 
And  although  they  were  a  wild,  jolly  crowd,  many 
an  eye  was  full  at  parting  with  the  old  friend  of 
by-gone  years,  for  it  struck  a  tender  chord  in 
their  hearts. 

The  last  farewell  was  said,  and  Elton  stood 
alone  in  the  room,  as  he  muttered : 

"They  were  a  wild  crowd,  and  sometimes 
bothered  me.  But  they  were  good-hearted  after 
all.  And  it  strikes  a  tender  chord  in  my  heart 
to  part  with  them !  But  then,  I  suppose  the  war 
will  soon  be  over  and  they'll  all  be  back  again." 


138    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

But  in  this  he  was  mistaken,  for  ere  the  close 
of  the  conflict,  many  of  them  would  cross  the  dark 
River  of  Death  I 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE   EXPOSURE   OF   THE   VILLAGE  MYSTERY. 

Oh,  mysteries  so  mysterious, 
Ghosts  and  demons  drear ! 

Late  the  next  evening,  after  the  last  meeting  of 
the  Vandal  Club,  Phantom  took  his  departure 
from  St.  Arlyle. 

"Good  bye,  boys,"  he  said  from  his  seat  in  the 
carriage,  surrounded  by  the  Vandals.  "The  play 
is  ended,  and  I'm  not  the  man  to  add  an  epilogue 
when  the  curtain's  down.  I'm  much  obliged  to 
you  all,  for  the  aid  you've  given  me,  and  I  shall 
always  keep  the  Vandal  club  in  remembrance. 
You  might  have  given  me  a  little  more  time  and 
not  exposed  the  spirit  mystery  till  business  began 
to  dull.  But  then,  I'm  satisfied." 

"Bejabers,  yes  ought  ter  be,  fur  yes  walked 
inter  this  town  wid  yer  carpet  bag,  and  now  yes 
ridin'  out  wid  a  chase,  and  yer  pockets  filled  wid 
coin !  But  I've  nothing  to  say  agin  yes,  Phantom, 
only,  yes  play  a  stiff  game  of  cards.  And  I've 
nothin'  to  say  agin  that.  But  whin  yes  drew  five 
aces  out  of  a  dick,  bedabs,  it's  an  insinuation  on  a 
square  game." 

•  "Well,  you  soon  learned  that  part  of  the  game 
yourself,"  replied  Phantom. 

"Yes,  I  did,  for  it  wuz  the  only  way  to  keep 


avin." 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       139 

"Good  bye,  boys,"  said  the  ex-medium  as  the 
carnage  started,  "the  spiritualistic  business  is 
ended  1" 

"Yes,"  replied  Marshall,  "sort  of  annihilated, 
kind  of  Vandalized!" 

"That's  so,"  answered  the  Pirate,  "we'll  'ave 
no  more  spirits  'ere,  except  them  in  a  whiskey 
bottle." 

The  next  day  the  Vandals  placarded  every 
available  wall  in  the  village  with  the  following 
announcement : 

The  Village  Mystery  Exposed! 
In  the  Town  Hall,  To-night. 
Admission,     -     Free. 

That  evening  the  public  hall  was  crowded  with 
a  larger  and  more  excited  audience  than  ever 
Phantom  had  congregated.  Not  only  was  every 
seat  and  part  of  the  hall  occupied,  but  a  number 
stood  outside  the  windows  and  doors. 

The  curtain  was  removed  from  the  front  of  the 
stage,  revealing  Phantom's  cabinet,  "devil's  box," 
table  and  other  paraphernalia,  which  he  had  left 
in  his  precipitate  flight.  Besides  these  was  a  table 
covered  with  chemical  and  optical  apparatus. 

Gleaton  mounted  the  stage  and  said: 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen:  The  other  night  the 
Vandal  club  passed  resolutions  to  expose  The 
Village  Mystery,  and  Phantom's  spiritualistic  per- 
formances. To  tell  the  truth,  the  Vandals  had  a 
hand  in  this  ghostly  programme,  and  so,  to  free 
their  somewhat  elastic  consciences,  before  bid- 
ding you  farewell,  for  most  of  them  have  enlisted 


140    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

to  do  their  humble  part  in  the  war,  they  con- 
cluded to  make  a  complete  exposure. 

"Being  deficient  in  scientific  knowledge,  they 
requested  the  well  known  chemist,  Dr.  Landon, 
to  assist,  which  he  has  very  kindly  consented  to 
do.  Since  the  Vandals'  last  meeting  events  have 
transpired  which  have  given  them  the  power  to 
explain  all.  So  as  our  Warwickshire  friend  has 
said: 

'There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough  hew  them  how  we  will.' 

"I  now  introduce  to  you,  Dr.  Charles  Landon, 
professor  of  chemistry  in  the  University." 

Dr.  Landon  mounted  the  stage  amid  applause, 
and  began: 

"We  have  met  to-night  to  consider  an  old  fa- 
miliar subject,  for  it  had  its  birth  far  back  in  the 
morning  of  time  before  the  historian's  pen  had 
left  a  record,  for  it  is  almost  cotemporaneous 
with  man's  creation.  In  every  age,  in  every 
clime,  and  under  every  form  of  government,  and 
in  all  grades  of  society,  either  savage,  barbarian 
or  civilized,  we  find  superstition,  like  the  scene- 
shifter  on  the  mimic  stage,  always  there.  For 
man  has  always  had  a  longing  to  look  through  the 
mystic  future,  and  see  what  fate  has  in  store  for 
him.  But  through  all  the  faded  centuries,  in  the 
book  of  the  future  he  has  never  turned  a  page,  or 
read  a  line.  It  is  said,  and  truly  so,  that  in  every 
person's  mind  is  some  form  of  superstition;  it 
may  be  far  less  in  some  persons  than  in  others, 
but  it  is  there  nevertheless. 

"The  Bible,  our  oldest  authentic  history,  gives 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       141 

us  many  instances  of  the  parts  played  by 
magicians.  It  informs  us  that  Saul  consulted 
the  Witch  of  Endor,  concerning  his  power  to  de- 
feat the  Philistines ;  and  that  God's  chosen  people 
made  a  golden  calf  to  worship,  and  that  even  the 
great  and  wise  Solomon  forsook  his  allegiance  to 
his  God  and  worshiped  Astoreth  the  goddess  of 
the  Zidonians. 

"Thus  in  the  earliest  legends  and  records  of  the 
world,  we  find  superstition  existing.  We  can 
trace  it  back  through  the  Judaic  history,  in  the 
books  of  Buddhaism,  of  Brahmanism,  of  Chal- 
deism,  in  the  legends  of  the  Northmen,  and  in 
the  fanciful,  dreamy  tales  of  primitive  men. 

"Then  when  we  reach  the  annals  of  history  we 
follow  superstition's  unbroken  line,  age  by  age, 
year  by  year,  till  the  past  becomes  but  yesterday. 

"Greece,  the  land  of  arts  and  sciences,  and  the 
birthplace  of  modern  civilization,  believed  im- 
plicitly in  its  gods  or  oracles  of  Jupiter  at 
Dodona,  and  Apollo  at  Delphos. 

"Learned  Rome  had  her  sacred  college  of 
soothsayers,  her  sybils  and  augurs;  the  Middle 
Ages  its  sorcerers,  who  flourished  and  increased 
in  defiance  of  torture  and  death,  modern  times  has 
had  its  witchcraft,  and  Illuminati,  and  the  pres- 
ent time  has  its  spiritualism,  but  the  offspring  of 
the  Illuminati. 

"Thus,  we  see  that  superstition  and  error  have 
flourished  in  every  age  and  country,  in  defiance  of 
persecution,  torture  and  death.  But  what  all 
these  have  failed  to  do,  the  more  powerful 
weapons  of  truth,  light  and  science  will  accom- 
plish. 


142   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"We  will  now  proceed  to  expose  'The  Village 
Mystery,'  and  Phantom's  legerdemain.  First, 
taking  up  the  spirtualist's  impostures  in  the  order 
in  which  he  performed  them.  We  shall  then 
turn  our  attention  to  the  Sleeping  Egyptian,  the 
Haunted  House,  and  the  Graveyard  Ghost. 

"Modern  spiritualism  originated  in  the  City  of 
'Rochester,  New  York,  about  the  year  1848,  by 
two  women  named  Fox,  who  announced  to  the 
public  that  they  were  capable  of  producing  super- 
natural knocks  and  noises,  by  which  they  could 
communicate  with  spirits  of  the  dead.  They  im- 
mediately caused  great  excitement,  and  were 
visited  by  hundreds  of  people,  including  phy- 
sicians, clergymen,  editors  and  lawyers,  who,  un- 
able to  give  any  satisfactory  reasons  for  the  gen- 
eration of  the  strange  raps,  and  apparently  true 
answers  to  their  questions,  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  knocks  were  the  result  of  divine  inspira- 
tion. From  its  cradle  in  Rochester,  spiritualism 
spread  rapidly  in  all  directions.  And  the  me- 
diums, as  the  promulgators  of  the  art  called 
themselves,  drew  large  crowds  to  their  seances, 
always  held  in  the  dark,  for  like  the  magicians 
and  sorcerers  of  early  ages,  they  disliked  the 
light. 

"Although  Rochester  was  the  birthplace  of 
spiritualism  of  the  present  day,  strange  raps  and 
noises  attributed  to  the  supernatural,  were  known 
in  nearly  every  age.  In  England,  among  many 
others,  the  Newgate  criminal  calendar  records 
the  celebrated  trial  of  the  Cock  Lane  Ghost, 
which  rapped,  and  was  supposed  to  have  com- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       143 

munication  with  the  departed,  but  which  proved 
to  be  a  living  woman. 

"We  shall  now  turn  our  attention  to  the  so- 
called  spirit  rappings.  I  regret  that  our  mys- 
terious friend  Phantom  is  not  present,  but  to  use 
the  words  of  the  Vandal,  uhas  evaporated."  As 
you  see,  in  his  hasty  exit,  he  has  left  his  table, 
cabinet  and  other  material  behind,  which  will 
prove  useful  to  us  in  illustrating  his  legerdemain." 

Four  Vandals  and  Dr.  Landon  seated  them- 
selves around  the  table,  and  placing  their  hands 
upon  it,  almost  immediately  raps  were  heard,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  the  table  began  a  dancing  motion. 

"You  see,"  said  Charles  Landon,  "we  have 
spirits  present,  though  no  questions  were  asked. 
Now,  what  caused  these  raps  and  gave  motion  to 
the  table,  for  there  are  no  wires  or  cords  attached 
to  it? 

"The  first  raps  heard  were  produced  by  the 
forefinger  of  one  of  the  hands  lying  flat  upon  the 
table.  This  is  accomplished  by  slightly  raising 
the  finger  and  striking  it  upon  the  hard  table. 
The  movement  is  so  slight  that  you  would  not 
perceive  it,  perhaps,  even  if  your  attention  were 
called  to  it.  For  those  who  repeatedly  practice 
it  grow  very  expert  at  the  deception.  And  there 
would  be  far  less  probability  of  your  seeing  the 
movement  of  the  finger  if  it  were  in  a  dimly 
lighted  room  such  as  mediums  always  use.  But 
there  is  another  and  truly  wonderful  method  of 
producing  knocks  by  electricity.  It  was  this  hid- 
den electrical  phenomenon  that,  at  first,  puzzled 
so  many  persons  and  caused  them  to  attribute 
these  strange  raps  and  motions  to  the  super- 


144   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

natural.  But  where  does  this  electricity  come 
from,  or,  in  other  words,  how  is  it  produced?  The 
truth  is,  it  is  caused  by  the  human  body,  for,  under 
certain  circumstances,  it  has  the  power  of  con- 
verting itself  into  an  electrical  machine,  which 
can  often  be  operated  at  the  will  of  the  person 
himself.  It  has  often  been  observed  that  a  per- 
son gazing  fixedly  at  the  Aurora  Borealis  for  a 
short  time,  will  become  impregnated  with  the 
fluid,  and,  upon  approaching  a  negative  substance, 
will  give  off  a  spark.  And  even  instances  are  re- 
corded in  which  the  human  body  has  become  so 
electrically  excited,  by  sliding  rapidly  over  a  carpet 
as  to  yield  a  spark  capable  of  igniting  gas.  And 
even  this  electrical  power  is  possessed  by  some 
fishes,  particularly  the  torpedo  and  electric  ray  of 
South  America,  which  have  a  special  organ  for 
this  purpose,  capable  of  developing  such  an  elec- 
trical force  as  to  stun,  and  very  often  kill  their 
prey  by  the  shock. 

"Although  this  self-generating  electricity  is  pos- 
sessed by  every  one,  some  persons  inherit  it  in  a 
far  greater  degree  than  others,  just  as  in  animal 
magnetism.  But  like  many  other  powers  in  life, 
it  may  be  greatly  increased  by  cultivation,  giving 
those  who  have  practiced  it  a  wonderful  power 
over  the  beginner. 

"It  is  a  well  known  fact  that,  when  a  strong 
electrical  discharge  passes  through  an  imperfect 
conductor,  it  either  knocks  it  about,  or  breaks  it 
to  pieces,  in  accordance  with  the  violence  of  the 
discharge. 

"This  is  just  what  has  happened  in  the  case  of 
the  table.  The  five  persons  seated  about  it  act 


(A  Village  Mystery  and 
Through  War  to  Peace) 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       145 

as  electrical  machines  and  the  table  being  a  neg- 
ative substance,  the  electrical  shock  causes  it  to 
rap  and  move  about. 

"Let  us  now  turn  to  Phantom's  trick  of  answer- 
ing spirit  questions,  through  the  medium  of  a  tin 
box,  by  placing  apparently  blank  sheets  of  paper 
in  it.  But  the  paper  was  not  blank,  it  had  the 
answers  to  questions  written  upon  it  with  dilute 
sulphuric  acid,  which  is  invisible  until  the  sheet 
is  gently  heated,  when  the  words  appear  in  black 
letters.  The  medium  accomplished  this  by  plac- 
ing the  tin  case  containing  the  paper  over  the 
flame  of  the  tripod  for  a  few  seconds. 

"If  you  remember,  the  Vandals  asked  the  first 
questions  which  were  answered  by  the  so-called 
'spirit-flame.'  And  I  am  sorry  to  say  they  were 
Phantom's  confederates,  and  had  the  whole  mat- 
ter pre-arranged  with  him.  But  when  the  farmer 
asked  a  question,  the  'medium'  was  nonplussed  for 
moment,  but  his  trusty  friends,  the  Vandals,  soon 
came  to  his  rescue.  As  they  make  it  their  busi- 
ness to  know  the  history,  or  peculiarities  of  every 
one  in  the  village,  they  soon  gave  him  the  answers 
to  the  farmer's  questions. 

"Phantom  showed  you  another  method  of  pro- 
ducing writing  on  seemingly  blank  paper,  by 
moistening  it  with  a  liquid.  This  is  merely  a 
chemical  principle.  The  sheets  had  been  pre- 
viously written  upon,  by  a  solution  of  sulphate  of 
copper,  which  is  invisible  until  moistened  by  aqua 
ammonia,  when  the  chemical  reaction  produces  the 
blue  letters. 

"The  hatching  of  the  'devil's  serpent  eggs,'  as 
the  spiritualist  called  them,  is  simply  another 


i46   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

chemical  performance.  These  'eggs'  are  com- 
posed of  dilute  nitric  acid,  quicksilver,  sulpho- 
cyanidum  of  ammonium  and  gum  tragacanth. 
This  mixture  is  made  into  a  paste  and  divided  into 
pellets.  When  these  pellets,  or  "eggs,"  are  dry 
and  fire  is  applied  to  one  of  them,  a  body  is 
evolved  from  it,  which  at  a  short  distance  re- 
sembles, identically,  that  of  a  snake. 

"The  production  of  'blood  writing'  upon  the 
arm,  is  very  simple.  A  red  lead  pencil  is  fixed 
under  the  table,  beneath  the  point  of  which  the 
naked  arm  is  moved  about." 

CHAPTER  XX. 

THE    EXPOSURE    FINISHED. — KELLY'S    SPEECH. 

— Error's  monstrous  shapes  from  earth  are  driven 
They  fade,  they  fly — but  truth  survives  the  flight. 

— Bryant. 

"We  will  now  explain  the  mystery  of  the 
Devil's  Box,  which,  like  most  of  his  parapher- 
nalia, he  neglected  to  carry  away.  The  box,  he 
affirmed,  was  covered  with  Egyptian  hiero- 
glyphics; but  upon  a  close  inspection  it  is  more 
probable  that  some  industrious  Vandal  used  his 
spare  moments  in  copying  upon  it  the  characters 
from  a  Chinese  tea  chest.  And  if  a  certain  Van- 
dal present  were  charged  with  the  deception  he 
would  undoubtedly  be  forced  to  acknowledge 
that  he  acted  in  this  instance  as  the  'medium' 
Egyptologist. 

"But  how  is  the  casket  made  heavy  or  light  at 
the  will  of  the  operator  and  without  his  touching 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       147 

it?  It  is  accomplished  in  the  following  way: 
Upon  first  examination  the  box  appears  to  be  com- 
posed entirely  of  wood;  but  it  is  not;  it  has  an 
iron  bottom.  But  what  has  the  iron  bottom  to 
do  with  changing  the  weight  of  the  box?  Simply 
this:  Phantom  has  an  opening  cut  in  the  centre  of 
the  stage  in  which  is  placed  a  powerful  electro- 
magnet hidden  by  the  surrounding  carpet.  To 
this  is  attached  wires,  along  which  a  strong  elec- 
tric current  is  sent  from  beneath  the  stage.  The 
bottom  of  the  case  being  of  iron  adheres  to  the 
other  metallic  plate,  as  long  as  the  current  is  con- 
tinued, with  such  power  that  a  horse  could  not 
pull  them  apart.  But  when  the  electricity  is  cut 
off  it  loses  its  power  of  a  loadstone. 

"This  wonderful  property  of  electricity  was 
taken  advantage  of  by  the  magicians  of  the  middle 
ages,  who  used  to  accomplish  some  strange  and 
wonderful  performances,  which,  by  the  ignorance 
of  the  age,  were  attributed  to  the  supernatural. 
Among  these  magicians  was  Albertus  Magnus, 
the  greatest  of  them  all.  He  was  born  in  the 
year  1 193,  and  was  the  most  renowned  scholar  of 
the  age  in  which  he  lived;  was  well  acquainted 
with  this  principle  of  natural  philosophy  and  took 
advantage  of  it  to  terrorize  his  followers  and  to 
throw  a  mystery  about  himself.  He  left  a  book 
called  The  Admirable  Secrets  of  Albertus  Mag- 
nus, in  which  are  some  very  useful  receipts,  but 
they  are  mixed  with  much  nonsense. 

uWe  will  now  consider  the  cabinet  mystery. 
These  performances  of  pretended  miracles,  by  the 
aid  of  a  cabinet,  originated  with  the  Davenport 
Brothers,  who  gave  exhibitions  of  these  spiritual 


148    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

manifestations,  as  they  called  them  in  the  United 
States,  England  and  France,  from  which  they 
made  thousands  of  dollars. 

"The  Davenports'  spiritual  performances  con- 
sisted of  the  two  brothers  being  securely  bound 
to  a  bench  in  a  cabinet;  which  contained  drums, 
bells  and  musical  instruments.  The  moment  the 
doors  were  closed  and  the  light  turned  down,  the 
drums  were  beat,  the  bells  rung,  the  musical  in- 
struments played,  and  hands  were  thrust  through 
the  small  openings  in  the  upper  part  of  the  doors 
of  the  cabinet.  Then  the  doors  swing  open  of 
their  own  accord  and  the  brothers  are  found 
bound  as  before.  Again  the  doors  are  closed,  the 
drums  beat  and  musical  instruments  played  as 
previously,  and  when  the  doors  open  they  are  still 
bound.  The  doors  are  again  closed  and  almost 
instantly  opened,  when  the  brothers  are  seen  un- 
bound, sitting  on  the  benches.  Of  course,  the 
Davenport  brothers  claimed  that  all  the  per- 
formances inside  the  cabinet  were  executed  by 
spiritual  power.  Although  they  exhibited  their 
performances  both  in  Great  Britain  and  America 
without  direct  detection,  they  came  to  grief  in 
Paris,  a  city  prolific  in  wizards  and  magicians. 
They  had  only  given  their  first  performance  when 
Robin,  a  noted  scientist  and  lecturer  of  the  Boule- 
vard du  Temple,  announced  to  the  city,  through 
the  papers,  that  he  would  fully  expose  the  Daven- 
port's cabinet  feat  in  full  view  of  all.  But  that 
evening  a  laughable  incident  revealed  the  Daven- 
port brothers'  secret,  forestalling  Robin's  ex- 
posure. It  occurred  in  the  following  manner: 
After  the  brothers  were  bound  to  the  bench,  a 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       149 

magician  examining  it,  found  a  secret  spring  which 
he  touched,  when,  lo !  the  bench  fell  to  pieces  and 
the  mediums  rolled  upon  the  floor,  amid  the  up- 
roarious, wild  yells  and  laughter  from  the  audi- 
ence. The  secret  was  out:  the  bench  had  many 
joints. 

"A  few  evenings  after,  Robin  gave  a  complete 
expose  of  the  Davenports'  exhibition,  and  showed 
how,  without  a  jointed  bench,  he  could  release 
himself  when  bound. 

"I  will  take  this  rope  and  show  you  how  easily 
it  is  performed.  By  a  simple  turn  of  the  wrist, 
you  see  how  an  apparently  secure  square  knot 
can  be  converted  into  a  half  hitch,  through  which 
that  part  of  the  rope  held  by  the  one  bound  can 
be  pushed.  Any  rope  will  admit  of  a  little  slack, 
so  almost  any  knot  can  be  converted  into  a  slip- 
knot; and  when  this  is  accomplished,  the  greatest 
difficulty  in  untying  one's  self  is  overcome. 

"The  leading  point  with  the  Davenport 
brothers  was  to  have  the  knot  at  their  wrists  ap- 
pear solid,  although  it  was  really  a  slip-knot. 
This  may  be  accomplished  in  many  ways,  among 
others,  thus:  a  square  knot  is  made  in  the  middle 
of  a  rope  and  the  ends  put  through  in  opposite 
directions  beneath  the  knot,  which  is  then  pulled 
tight.  This  operation  forms  two  loops,  which 
are  made  just  large  enough  to  thrust  the  hands 
through.  Then  the  hands  are  pulled  out  of  the 
loops,  and  used  to  put  the  ends  of  the  rope 
through  the  holes  in  the  bench,  and  then  the  feet 
are  tied  and  also  the  ends  of  the  rope  fastened  to 
the  rounds  of  the  bench,  when  the  hands  are  again 
inserted  into  the  loops  and  the  latter  drawn  tight 


150  THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

and  the  operation  of  tying  is  finished.  The  Daven- 
port brothers  claimed  that  they  did  not  use  their 
hands  in  untying  themselves,  but  were  freed  by 
spirit  power.  To  prove  this,  they  had  flour 
placed  in  their  hands,  and  when  they  were  un- 
bound the  flour  was  still  found  in  their  fists.  Ap- 
parently it  had  been  there  all  the  time,  but  such 
was  not  the  fact,  for  they  had  transferred  it  to 
their  pockets,  and  again  filled  their  hands  just 
before  exhibiting  them. 

"You  will  recollect  that  when  Phantom  gave 
this  exhibition  of  slight  of  hand,  our  friend,  Mr. 
Kelly,  claimed  that  it  was  chalk  he  had  given  the 
medium  and  not  flour,  which  was  the  fact.  But 
the  other  Vandals,  to  use  Mr.  Kelly's  words,  out- 
talked  him  and  forced  him  to  acknowledge  that 
chalk  was  flour.  Thus  showing  you  that  the 
Vandals  were  almost  indispensable  to  Phantom, 
in  his  many  spiritualistic  peformances. 

"We  will  now  turn  our  attention  to  Phantom's 
last  magical  feat,  that  of  raising  the  devil  out  of 
his  casket  into  full  view.  Many  of  you  have  al- 
ready anticipated  the  explanation — it  lies  in  the 
one  word  phantasmagoria.  A  phantasmagoria 
is  nothing  more  than  a  perfect  magic  lantern. 

"Once  more,  we  call  your  attention  to  the 
Devil's  Casket,  as  Phantom  named  it,  not  to  ex- 
hibit it,  but  to  give  you  a  practical  illustration  of 
how  the  medium  caused  the  devil  to  rise  out  of 
it.  In  the  box  I  have  placed  a  brazier  contain- 
ing burning  charcoal.  Upon  these  coals  is  thrown 
olibanum — many  other  gums  would  serve  the 
same  purpose — and  the  black  smoke  arising  from 
the  gum  immediately  above  the  box,  forms  an 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       151 

excellent  screen  upon  which  to  reflect  the  image 
thrown  from  the  phantasmagoria,  which  is  hidden 
from  view  by  the'wings  of  the  stage. 

uNow,  as  my  assistant  turns  the  focus  of  the 
lantern  upon  the  smoke,  you  see  Phantom's  devil 
appears  in  all  his  hideousness." 

"Begorra  !"  said  Kelly,  "that's  the  idintical  ould 
bog-throtter!" 

"It  is  to  Dr.  Robertson/'  continued  Landon, 
"that  we  owe  the  first  perfection  of  the  phantas- 
magoria. Robinson  was  an  English  scientist, 
who  lived  in  Paris  during  the  Reign  of  Terror, 
and  brought  the  optical  science  to  a  wonderful 
degree  of  perfection.  His  exhibitions  caused 
even  more  excitement  and  wonder  among  the 
French  public  than  had  been  caused  by  Cagliostro 
and  Mesmer,  but  his  purpose  was  far  different 
from  that  of  these  two  charlatans;  while  Mesmer 
and  Cagliostro  held  that  their  performances  were 
caused  by  spirits  and  demons  Robertson  ridiculed 
these  ideas  and  showed  that  the  strange  scenes 
were  wholly  due  to  to  the  principles  of  science. 

"To  perfect  and  heighten  the  effect  of  his 
science,  he  obtained  a  room  over  eighty  feet  long 
and  twenty-four  wide  which  he  hung  entirely  with 
black.  At  one  end  of  the  room  he  had  a  raised 
stage,  across  the  front  of  which  was  stretched  a 
white  sheet  previously  soaked  in  a  mixture  of  gum 
arabic  and  stretched  to  render  it  transparent, 
which  was  protected  by  a  black  curtain  till  the 
moment  of  his  operations. 

"Robinson's  fame  spread  so  rapidly  and  such 
crowds  flocked  to  his  wonderful  performances 
that,  for  the  want  of  space  to  accommodate  them, 


152   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

he  removed  to  the  Capuchin  convent.  The  ro- 
mantic and  gloomy  appearance  of  this  old  build- 
ing Robertson  augmented,  by  giving  his  most 
wonderful  and  appalling  exhibitions.  When  the 
audience  were  assembled,  he  began  by  a  short  ad- 
dress on  spectres  and  demons,  and  when  he  had 
excited  their  imaginations  to  the  highest  pitch,  he 
suddenly  plunged  the  room  into  total  darkness. 
Instantly  in  the  gloom  there  arose  a  storm  of 
thunder,  lightning  and  rain,  amid  which  could  be 
heard  the  solemn  tolling  of  bells,  as  if  calling  the 
dead  from  their  tombs,  sad  dirges  were  sung, 
amid  wild  shrieks,  while  the  thunder  rolled 
heavier  each  moment,  the  lightning  flashed  in 
every  direction,  and  the  rain  fell  in  torrents.  But 
suddenly,  amid  it  all,  came  the  low,  sweet  strains 
of  music,  and  the  storm  began  to  clear  away,  and 
a  faint  light  appeared  in  the  distance.  This 
luminous  cloud  as  it  grew  brighter,  gradually  be- 
came the  form  of  a  man,  approached  nearer  and 
nearer  until  it  seemed  as  if  about  to  be  precip- 
itated upon  the  spectators.  There  was  a  cry  of 
terror  from  many,  when  it  instantly  faded  away. 
Again  and  again,  figures  of  spirits  and  demons 
arose  out  of  the  gloom,  growing  brighter  and 
brighter,  till  they  seemed  to  fall  upon  the  audi- 
ence, when  they  suddenly  disappeared. 

"Then  the  scene  changed,  and  a  cave  appeared, 
from  which  flowed  a  dark,  sluggish  stream,  on 
which  floated  a  boat  crowded  with  spectres,  as  if 
crossing  the  River  of  Death. 

"It  was  by  similar  scenes  to  these  (and  no 
wonder,  in  the  ignorance  of  the  times,  the  pop- 
ulace attributed  them  to  the  supernatural),  that 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      153 

the  priests  of  Memphis,  Ancient  Greece  and 
Rome,  in  their  subterranean  vaults  excited  the 
wonder  and  terror  of  the  beholders. 

"Phantasmagoria  has  but  been  re-discovered, 
in  modern  times,  for  undoubtedly  its  originators 
were  priests  of  antiquity.  It  is  recorded  in 
ancient  writings  that  in  these  dimly-lighted  cav- 
erns the  priests  showed  their  followers  the  shades 
of  the  departed,  and  also  the  future  bliss  in  store 
for  them  in  the  Elysian  fields. 

"The  next  subject  to  which  we  will  turn  our 
attention  is  the  'Sleeping  Egyptian/  Mr.  Mere- 
dith will  take  the  subject  in  hand,  and  explain  it 
thoroughly  to  you." 

Meredith  then  took  the  platform,  and  began: 

"You  will  remember  that  Phantom  announced 
to  the  public  that  on  New  Year's  night  the  mailed 
figure  in  the  garden  of  the  haunted  house  would 
step  down  from  his  pedestal  and  walk  away  never 
to  be  seen  again.  It  was  very  necessary  to  the 
medium's  fame,  that  his  prophecy  should  be  ful- 
filled; so  he  engaged  the  Vandals  to  aid  him.  An 
hour  before  midnight,  last  New  Year,  we  re- 
moved the  wooden  image  out  of  its  armor,  and  I 
took  my  place  inside  and  mounted  the  marble 
base.  At  exactly  twelve  o'clock,  I  stepped  down 
and  walked  into  the  street  and  along  it  till  I 
reached  the  river,  into  which  I  threw  the  coat  of 
mail,  where  it  may  still  be  found,  if  any  of  you 
doubt  the  truth  of  my  words." 

Meredith  left  the  stage,  as  Gleaton  announced 
that  Kelly  would  give  an  account  of  the  capture  of 
the  graveyard  ghost. 

The  Priate  mounted  the  platform  amid  wild 


154   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

applause  and  laughter.      When  it  had  ceased,  he 
began: 

"Ladies  and  Gintlemin,  I  ain't  mouch  of  a 
sphaker.  But  begorra !  I'm  goin'  to  do  th'  bist  I 
kin,  under  the  thryin'  circumstances.  We  wint  fur 
that  ghoast  in  the  grave-yard  siveral  times,  bud 
we  didn't  git  'im.  On  the  contrary,  he  rather  got 
away  wid  us.  For  as  we  lift  the  simetary,  and 
shlid  over  the  fince,  wid  sore  shins  and  bloody 
faces,  we  looked  as  if  we'd  been  run  through  a 
thrashing  machine  and  kome  out  wid  the  grain. 
But  foinely,  we  wint  there  to  sthay!  And  fur 
about  two  hours  we  'ad  it  extramely  loively.  It 
wuz  the  divil's  own  philimaloo !  fur  we  wuz  bate 
in  ivery  tussle.  Bud  we  froze  to  the  sphirut 
loike  an  Esquemo  to  a  taller  candle.  The  first 
tussle  I  had  wid  the  ghost,  he  butted  me  in  the 
stomache  an  doubled  me  up  loike  a  jack-knife. 
Not  long  after  he  sint  Marshall  sprawling  on  the 
grounnd,  and  ilevated  Stanton  over  a  couple  ov 
grave  stuns,  and  hit  Meredith  a  clout  that  made 
im  dhream  astronomy. 

"Bud  foinely,  we  made  it  so  extramely  hot  fur 
the  ghost,  that  he  skipped  over  in  widder  Flan- 
nigan's  yard.  I  wint  afther  'im,  an'  I  cornered 
'im  on  the  back  poarch,  an'  after  knocking  over 
half  a  dozen  pots  an'  ivery  thing  in  gineral,  and 
smashin'  a  winder,  I  got  the  sphirrut.  An'  what 
do  yes  think  he  wuz? 

"Nothin',  bud  Mistress  Flannigan's  ghoat. 

ujist  thin,  the  widder  kome  out  an'  sez  she: 
'Howly  muther  of  Moases!     Iz  that  ye,   Kelly 
the  Pirate" 

"Sez  I,  it's  meself." 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       155 

"Sez  she,  I  belave  ye's  been  afther  me  goat? 
ye  dirty  spalpeen ! 

uSez  I,  I  belave  I  have,  too.  Bud  Mrs.  Flan- 
nigan,"  sez  I,  "ye  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yer- 
self  to  let  yor  baste  run  over  dead  paple  what 
can't  defind  themselves." 

"Sez  she,  git  out  wid  yes,  ye  Pirate,  or  I'll 
twist  yer  lugs  off!  Ye  bogtrottin'  calf!" 

"Aisy,  Mistress  Flannigan,"  sez  I,  as  I  leaped 
over  the  fince. 

"An'  that's  all  there's  about  the  simetary 
ghoast." 

Kelly  then  left  the  stage  and  Dr.  Landon,  re- 
suming, said: 

"We  have  now  reached  the  last  subject  for  con- 
sideration, the  mystery  of  the  Haunted  House. 
These  scenes  in  the  old  house,  that  have  been  at- 
tributed to  the  supernatural  originated  by  acci- 
dent, for  the  author  of  them  is  the  last  person  in 
the  world  who  would  attempt  to  impose  upon  the 
credulity  of  any  one.  The  author  of  these  curi- 
ous lights  and  fires  being  none  other  than  Dr. 
Benj.  Granville,  the  president  of  the  University, 
with  whom  many  of  you  are  acquainted. 

"You  will  probably  remember  that  it  was  re- 
ported, some  years  since,  that  the  Haunted  House 
was  sold  to  a  chemist,  but  as  the  purchaser's  name 
was  not  made  public,  few  were  aware  that  it  was 
Dr.  Granville.  About  a  year  ago,  the  Doctor, 
wishing  to  prosecute  some  experiments  in  the 
manufacture  of  diamonds  and  other  precious 
stones,  and  also  to  perfect  several  chemical  dis- 
coveries, had  a  furnace  and  chemical  apparatus 
placed  in  the  Haunted  House.  He  selected  the 


156   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

old  house,  as  he  thought  he  would  be  free  from 
intrusion,  never  even  dreaming  that  he  would 
cause  the  public  to  believe  that  the  old  house  was 
inhabited  by  ghosts. 

"In  prosecuting  his  work,  he  required  a  large 
fire  and  a  great  heat,  and  the  chemical  used  in  it 
often  changed  its  color,  and  at  other  times  gave 
the  fire  great  brilliancy. 

"Many  of  his  experiments  were  a  perfect  suc- 
cess; but  he  feels  exceedingly  sorry  that  uninten- 
tionally he  deceived  the  public  and  caused  a  be- 
lief in  the  supernatural.  He  also  informed  me 
that  he  very  much  regretted  that  he  could  not 
be  present  to-night,  and  explain  all  to  you ;  but  that 
he  would  do  so  at  the  earliest  opportunity. 

"The  spectral  figures  that  appeared  in  mid  air 
above  the  old  house,  Dr.  Granville  was  in  no 
way  connected  with,  for  they  were  the  work  of 
the  Vandal  club.  Many  of  you  will  remember 
for  some  time  the  Vandals  made  strong  efforts  to 
discover  the  mystery  of  the  Haunted  House,  but 
suddenly  they  ceased  to  do  so,  and  acknowledged 
it  was  haunted,  though  they  had  ridiculed  the  idea 
before.  It  was  at  that  time  they  discovered  the 
whole  mystery,  but  instead  of  exposing  it,  they 
resolved  to  add  to  it,  so  they  produced  the  spec- 
tral images  in  mid-air.  They  accomplished  it  in 
the  following  manner.  Among  the  Vandals  are 
students  well  advanced  in  scientific  knowledge, 
for  you  are  aware,  they  are  a  heterogeneous 
crowd.  Some  of  them  climbed  to  the  roof  of 
the  Haunted  House,  taking  with  them  a  phantas- 
magoria and  concealing  it  as  well  as  themselves 
behind  a  battlement,  while  others,  also  hidden  on 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       157 

the  roof,  produced  with  chemicals  a  dense  black 
smoke,  which  formed  an  excellent  screen  upon 
which  to  reflect  the  image  from  the  magic  lantern. 
Of  their  success  you  are  all  aware.  It  was  splen- 
didly accomplished,  and  they  deserve  much  praise 
for  their  scientific  skill;  though  we  must  strongly 
condemn  their  motives. 

"We  have  now  exposed  the  'Village  Mystery/ 
step  by  step,  and  you  see  that  at  every  point  of 
its  progress  it  is  but  the  offspring  of  science  and 
human  labor. 

"Thus  ever,  when  the  dark  vista  of  ignorance 
and  error  is  illuminated  by  the  torch  of  light  and 
truth,  we  find  but  one  magician,  one  sorcerer, 
science  and  human  power!" 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

BERTHA'S  VISIT  TO  THE  HAUNTED  HOUSE. 

Through  knowledge  we  behold  the  world's  creation, 

How  in  his  cradle  first  he  fostered  was, 

And  judge  of  nature's  cunning  operation, 

How  things  she  formed  of  formless  mass : 

By  knowledge  we  do  learn  ourselves  to  know; 

And  what  to  man  and  what  to  God  we  owe. — Spenser. 

After  the  sad  parting  with  Charlie  Landon, 
Bertie  Merton  so  bravely  took  up  the  duties  of 
life  again  that  only  her  dearest  and  nearest 
friends  knew,  or  suspected,  of  the  wounds  she 
bore  in  her  heart.  She  had  feared  and  dreaded 
this  last  farewell,  as  a  brave  soldier  often  does 
a  pending  battle,  but  when  he  is  once  in  the  shock 
of  the  conflict  he  heroically  presses  on  in  the  path 
of  duty,  regardless  of  danger,  thinking  only  of 


158   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

winning;  thus  when  the  last  adieu  was  said,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  her  heart  would  break  and  her 
anguish  overpower  her,  she  nobly  summoned  all 
her  courage  and  never  for  a  moment  thought  of 
yielding  to  despair. 

She  knew  that  there  is  nothing  like  employment 
to  prevent  one  from  brooding  over  sorrows,  so 
she  applied  herself  assiduously  to  study.  She 
had  inherited  a  natural  talent  for  drawing  and 
painting,  which  she  so  rapidly  improved  by  close 
study,  that  her  instructor  declared  that  he  could 
teach  her  no  more,  and  she  began  to  be  looked 
upon  as  a  rising  young  artist. 

She  rarely  went  into  society,  or  even  left  her 
home,  except  to  visit  some  sick  or  .needy  persons. 
But  there  was  one  person,  Dr.  Granville,  to  whom 
she  had  taken  a  fancy,  not  particularly  on  account 
of  his  kind,  fatherly  ways,  or  his  great  learning — 
although  she  fully  appreciated  them — but  from 
the  fact  that  he  had  once  been  Dr.  Landon's  in- 
structor, and  was  still  his  strong  friend.  A  mutual 
friendship  that  had  grown  stronger  between  the 
two  men  with  each  fleeting  year.  Thus,  she  and 
Dr.  Granville  could  converse  on  a  subject  agree- 
able to  him  and  doubly  dear  to  her,  for  she  still 
loved  Charlie  Landon  with  a  fervor  which  dis- 
tance or  time  could  not  quench.  So  when  the 
Doctor  invited  her  to  visit  him  in  his  den  (as  he 
called  it,  but  which  had  been  known  to  the  vil- 
lage as  the  Haunted  House),  she  readily  accepted 
his  invitation.  One  bright  afternoon  she  walked 
up  the  hill  to  the  old  house,  and  ascending  the 
stairs,  stood  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  scientist's 
study. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       159 

It  was  truly  a  study  and  not  a  cozy  place  of 
amusement,  but  a  retreat  for  brain-work  and  busi- 
ness, where  intricate  and  important  subjects  of 
science  were  examined  by  the  most  crucial  tests, 
and  if  found  wanting  were  cast  aside,  or  if  proved 
to  be  facts  were  given  to  the  world. 

The  walls  of  the  study,  where  not  occupied  with 
maps  and  charts,  were  covered  with  shelves,  and 
nearly  all  of  them  were  closely  packed  with  books. 
Here  in  dark  studious-looking  covers  were  repre- 
sented science,  philosophy,  history  and  poetry. 

Dr.  Benjamin  Granville  was  a  hard  working, 
indefatigable  student,  an  enthusiast  in  science, 
who  never  spared  himself  from  days  and  nights 
of  continuous  toil  in  his  favorite  studies,  until  at 
last  his  profound  scholarly  attainments  in  chem- 
istry, geology  and  mineralogy  had  attracted  the 
attention  of  other  scientists,  who  looked  upon 
him  with  admiration,  and  quoted  him  as  author- 
ity in  these  branches  of  science.  He  was  pres- 
ident of  the  University  of  St.  Arlyle,  and  numer- 
ous colleges  had  conferred  their  highest  degrees 
upon  him.  There  was  scarcely  a  kind  of  mineral 
substance  in  the  world  he  had  not  passed  through 
his  crucible  or  test  tubes.  He  could  almost  tell 
at  a  glance  the  composition  of  minerals  and  rocks 
and  their  geological  history.  In  geology,  he  had 
examined  strata  after  strata  of  the  earth,  with 
their  fossils,  shells  and  huge  fishes,  reptiles  and 
mammals,  and  estimated  and  recorded  the  order 
of  the  epoch  in  which  they  had  existed  till  it 
reached  back  thousands  of  years. 

When  Miss  Merton  knocked  at  the  door  of 
Dr.  Granville's  study  he  was  seated  in  an  oaken 


160   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

chair  before  a  large  desk  covered  with  books,  pa- 
pers and  apparatus,  while  around  were  heaped 
masses  of  minerals,  fossils  and  charts.  With 
his  head  bent  down  to  the  desk  he  was  oblivious 
to  the  outside  world,  for  his  thoughts  were  far 
back  in  the  globe's  existence  thousands  of  years 
ere  man's  feet  trod  its  crust.  For  scientists  had 
recently  discovered  a  new  formation,  of  which 
he  was  eagerly  endeavoring  to  determine  the 
geological  age. 

After  knocking  repeatedly  for  some  time,  Miss 
Merton  at  last  grew  impatient,  and,  pushing  open 
the  door,  entered. 

"Excuse  me,  Doctor,"  said  she,  "but  I  have 
been  rapping  for  the  last  four  minutes.  I  know 
you  were  so  busily  engaged  that  you  did  not  hear 


me." 


"No,"  he  answered,  absently,  "I  was  engaged 
on  this  geological  problem.  It  is  of  great  im- 
portance to  science — Oh,  bless  me!  Miss  Merton! 
I  did  not  recognize  you.  Be  seated !  I'm  some- 
times a  little — yes,  a  good  deal  absent-minded." 

"Oh,  do  not  let  me  interrupt  you,"  she  ex- 
claimed. 

"Really,  it  is  no  interruption  at  all!  It  does  us 
old  fellows  good  to  see  a  young  person.  It 
brings  us  back  to  the  world  again,  and  rests  the 
weary  brain.  I'm  very  glad  you've  come;  I  see," 
he  continued,  noticing  the  smile  playing  around 
her  mouth,  "you  think  my  thoughts  go  wool- 
gathering sometimes.  Don't  you?" 

She  made  no  reply,  but  burst  into  a  laugh. 

"Well,  you're  right!"  he  said,  smiling  as  he 
arose. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       161 

Dr.  Granville  was  quite  tall  and  stood  erect  as 
a  pine  (in  defiance  of  his  three  score  years),  with 
broad,  well-formed  shoulders,  finely  developed 
chest  a.nd  body,  small  arched  feet,  and  plump, 
white  hands.  He  moved  with  a  firm,  graceful 
stride  and  there  was  a  carelessness,  even  boyish- 
ness in  his  manners,  that  showed  his  heart  was 
still  young  in  its  purity  and  sweetness.  For  we 
often  find  the  greatest  scholars,  like  the  greatest 
truths,  the  simplest.  He  was  dressed  in  a  black 
broadcloth  suit,  neatly  fitting  his  well-developed 
figure,  and  its  dark  hue  contrasting  vividly  with 
his  pale,  calm  face. 

He  had  a  grandly  formed  head,  covered  by  an 
abundance  of  wavy  black  hair  pushed  back  from  a 
broad  white  forehead,  finely  cut  lips,  an  aquiline 
nose,  and  dark  grey  eyes,  that  Bertie  Merton 
said  were  fatherly  ones,  always  beaming  with 
kindness.  And  no  doubt  she  was  right. 

Altogether,  it  was  a  remarkable  face,  which 
once  seen  was  not  easily  forgotten,  and  that  made 
strangers  gaze  a  second  time  to  admire  it  and 
eagerly  inquire  concerning  the  person.  It  was 
not  particularly  in  its  beauty  that  the  charm  lay, 
but  in  the  nobleness  and  power  stamped  in  the 
brow  and  the  firm  lines  about  the  chin.  That 
grand  power  we  admire  and  trust  without  ask- 
ing the  reason  why. 

And  in  the  large,  liquid  eyes  there  was  a  rare 
sweetness  and  depth  of  feeling  that  only  those 
who  have  watched  over  others  in  pain,  trouble  and 
death,  have  learned  to  feel.  In  his  practice  as  a 
physician,  ere  other  sciences  had  claimed  so  much 
of  his  time,  he  had  met  every  form  of  pain  and 


1 62   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

despair,  and  learned  to  see  and  inspire  hope  and 
comfort  where  others  could  only  see  despondency, 
for  he  had  studied  deeply  and  truly  in  the  world 
of  science,  and  even  looked  beyond  it  to  the  Eter- 
nal Power,  till  he  knew  life's  value,  and  fearlessly 
waited  for  heaven's  reward. 

"Yes,"  continued  the  doctor,  "interruptions  are 
beneficial  to  us,  they  rest  our  brains,  and  help 
them  to  recover  their  power  again." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "rest  must  be  sweet  when 
earned  by  toil,  as  peace  is  doubly  dear  when 
gained  by  turmoil." 

"Very  true.  It  is  only  after  weary  labor  that 
one  can  fully  appreciate  the  Italian  proverb, 
Dolce  far  niente.  But,"  he  continued,  "what  do 
you  think  of  my  den?  Does  it  look  as  if  it  were 
haunted,  as  the  public  suppose  it  to  be?" 

"No,"  she  replied,  laughing,  "but  it  has  a 
studious  air  about  it.  I  suppose  it  is  because 
you  have  solved  so  many  great  problems  of  science 
in  it.  And,  perhaps,"  she  added  demurely,  "it 
is  that  which  gives  the  house  its  mysteriousness. 
But  your  study  is  quite  picturesque." 

"I  don't  know  about  its  picturesqueness.  It  is 
littered  in  wild  confusion.  We  old  fellows  have 
so  much  to  study  and  try  to  discover,  that  we 
begrudge  even  the  few  moments  it  would  require 
to  put  things  in  order." 

"I  am  not  surprised  at  your  enthusiasm.  For 
I  think  chemistry  is  a  very  wonderful  science,  and 
geology  also.  But  I  know  very  little  about 
geology." 

"Then  you  have  studied  chemistry?" 

"Yes,  a  very  little,  but  I  have  often  watched 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       163 

Dr.  Landon's  manipulations  in  it  that  seemed 
truly  magical  to  me."  She  blushed  slightly  as 
she  mentioned  Charles  Landon's  name,  but  Dr. 
Granville  was  looking  down  at  the  desk  and  did 
not  notice  it. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "Dr.  Landon  is  a  fine 
chemist.  Remarkably  so  for  so  young  a  man. 
You  could  not  have  had  a  better  instructor.  I 
have  no  doubt  he  has  made  quite  a  chemist  of  you. 
Did  he  also  give  you  lessons  in  geology?" 

"Oh,  yes,  but  I  know  very  little  about  it.  From 
the  little  I  have  learned,  I  should  not  think  it  as 
perfect  a  science  as  chemistry?  But,  of  course, 
I  am  not  competent  to  judge." 

"Perhaps  it  is  not.  But  it  is  only  within  the 
last  half  century  that  sufficient  truths  have  been 
discovered  to  enable  scientists  to  study  geology  as 
a  science.  Like  all  sciences,  it  arose  amid  a  wild 
confusion  of  theories,  from  which  were  gradually 
'discovered  the  great  truths  of  the  earth's  history, 
indelibly  written  in  the  stratas  by  the  rocks,  fos- 
sil animals  and  plants  of  by-gone  epochs." 

"It  must  have  taken  immense  periods  to  pro- 
duce those  changes.  Did  it  not?" 

"Undoubtedly,  millions  of  years !" 

"Then,  does  not  geology  seem  to  disagree  with 
the  Bible,  which  says  that  man  was  created  about 
six  thousand  years  ago?" 

"No,  indeed.  In  that  they  agree.  Although 
we  cannot  estimate  the  geological  time  exactly,  we 
have  numerous  scientific  facts  to  prove  that  since 
man's  appearance  on  earth,  it  could  not  have  been 
more  than  six  thousand  years.  Again,  they  con- 
cur that  man  was  the  last  animal  created.  For 


1 64   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

we  never  find  human  remains  below  the  alluvial 
deposits  (except  when  they  have  been  placed  there 
by  subsequent  action),  although  we  frequently  find 
the  fossil  remains  of  other  animals  often  in  a  good 
state  of  preservation  far  down  in  the  earth 
through  vast  epochs  of  time. 

"Again,  science  and  the  Scriptures  coincide 
that  fire  and  water  were  the  agencies  that  pro- 
duced changes  on  the  globe;  also,  that  at  first  the 
'earth  was  without  form  and  void' ;  again,  that 
land  was  covered  by  an  ocean;  and  they  also 
agree  that  the  work  of  creation  was  progressive 
after  the  matter  of  the  universe  had  been 
created." 

"But  does  not  the  Bible  say  that  God  created 
the  earth  in  six  days?" 

"True,  but  what  constitutes  a  day  in  popular 
language?" 

"From  sunrise  until  sunset." 

"Exactly,  that  suits  the  point  I  wish  to  make. 
Now,  Genesis  says:  the  sun,  moon  and  stars,  were 
not  made  till  the  fourth  day.  But  that  God 
caused  a  light  to  shine  before  lie  made  them.  And 
then,  the  Bible  defines  day  and  night  thus:  And 
God  called  the  light  Day,  and  the  darkness  he 
called  night.  Therefore,  showing  that  the  days 
and  nights  could  have  been  of  great  length.  For 
as  long  as  the  light  shone  it  would  be  called  a  day, 
without  any  regard  to  the  length  of  time  that 
might  be.  And  we  also  know  that  God's  power 
is  infinite  and  that  time  is  entirely  under  his  con- 
trol. For  the  Scripture  says:  That  one  day  is 
with  the  Lord  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thousand 
years  as  one  day. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       165 

"But  again,  an  immense  space  of  time  must 
have  elapsed  from  the  'beginning' — that  is  the 
creation  of  matter — to  the  six  days'  work.  For 
the  Bible  says:  In  the  beginning,  God  created  the 
heaven  and  the  earth.  And  the  earth  was  with- 
out form  and  void.  Therefore,  from  the  begin- 
ning— or  creation  of  matter — to  the  present  order 
of  things,  about  six  thousand  years  ago,  an  im- 
mense gulf  of  time  must  have  intervened  in  which 
the  earth  changed  from  a  gas  to  a  liquid,  and 
again  from  a  liquid  to  a  solid  state,  and  then  be- 
came cool  enough  for  animal  life  to  exist  upon  it. 
And  then  came  another  period,  in  which  myriads 
of  animals  lived  and  died,  and  were  entomed  in 
successive  strata,  making  the  oldest  over  six  miles 
in  depth." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  believe  in  the  Bible," 
she  exclaimed  enthusiastically,  "and  find  more 
proof  of  its  truth  in  all  your  deep  study  and  in- 
vestigation. For  in  this  age  there  are  so  many 
scientific  men  who  are  infidels  and  even  atheists." 

"Yes,  I  put  my  trust  in  it  years  ago,  and  I  have 
never  felt  it  falter  yet.  For  the  more  we  in- 
vestigate and  study  truly,  the  more  we  must  see 
and  feel  that  there  is  a  ruling  power  over  all. 
Chance  never  could  perform  the  perfect  concord 
and  action  of  the  universe.  Chance  would  some- 
times err,  or,  at  least,  make  a  false  motion,  but 
the  Great  Ruler  never  does.  So,  as  we  study  his 
great  laws  deeper  and  deeper,  we  can  only  learn 
to  admire  and  trust  them  more  and  more." 

"Yes,  truly,"  she  replied,  "one  should  never 
fear  that  God's  written  records  and  his  records 


1 66   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

imprinted  on  the  strata  of  time  can  ever  disagree 
when  interpreted  correctly." 

At  this  moment  they  were  interrupted  by  the 
entrance  of  Dr.  Granville's  negro  servant,  who 
inquired  about  removing  some  chemicals. 

When  he  had  left  the  room,  the  Doctor  turned 
to  Miss  Merton  and  said,  smiling: 

"Do  you  think  he  looks  like  an  imp  of  the  in- 
fernal regions,  as  Mr.  Gleaton  and  others  took 
him  to  be?" 

"No,"  she  replied,  laughing,  "he  resembles 
most  other  colored  men.  But  it  would  probably 
be  easy  for  one's  excited  imagination  to  believe 
him  such." 

"True,  fear  and  excitement  often  make  our 
imagination  turn  mole  hills  into  mountains. 

"I  little  dreamed  while  I  was  pursuing  my 
chemical  experiments,  I  was  aiding  the  belief  that 
the  house  was  haunted.  And  that  the  colored 
flames  as  shown  from  the  window,  (produced  by 
the  various  chemicals  used),  were  attributed  to 
the  imps  of  Pluto.  On  the  contrary,  I  thought 
the  old  house  was  so  secluded  that  but  few  would 
know,  of  my  experiments.  And  all  the  time  while 
the  neighborhood  was  telling  of  the  fiery  demon 
that  inhabited  the  house,  I  was  in  blissful  ignor- 
ance. I  did  not  even  suspect  anything  when  Mr. 
Gleaton  paid  his  visit  of  investigation.  When 
the  negro  informed  me  he  had  twice  prevented 
a  man  from  entering  the  room  containing  the  fur- 
nace, I  thought  he  must  be  mistaken,  until  the  next 
day  I  found  the  window  open  and  the  iron  staples 
filed  in  twain.  Even  then,  I  supposed  some  one 
had  broken  in  for  the  purpose  of  robbery.  On 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       167 

that  night,  I  remember  well  the  circumstances  that 
occurred,  when  the  blacksmith  entered  the  large 
mineral  room,  but  attributed  them  to  other  causes. 
I  was  seated  at  the  further  end  of  the  room  writ- 
ing, when  I  heard  a  noise  as  if  of  the  door  open- 
ing. I  looked  up  but  saw.  nothing,  as  that  part 
of  the  room  near  the  door  was  dimly  lighted.  In 
a  few  moments  I  again  heard  a  noise,  and  gazing 
up,  I  saw  one  arm  of  the  skeleton  suddenly  raise. 
I  was  surprised  at  this  until  I  noticed  a  window 
was  open,  and  that  it  was  caused  by  the  action 
of  the  wind. 

uAt  that  moment  the  negro  entered,  and  I  nat- 
urally supposed  the  noise  was  caused  by  him.  But 
I  have  since  learned  that  it  was  produced  by  Mr. 
Gleaton  fainting  and  falling  behind  a  cabinet." 

"No  wonder,"  she  said,  "such  a  combination 
of  circumstances  would  cause  him  to  suppose  him- 
self in  the  presence  of  supernatural  beings." 

"By  the  way,"  said  the  Doctor,  "would  you 
like  to  see  the  haunted  room?" 

"Oh  yes,  very  much,  for  I  have  inherited  that 
womanly  curiosity  that  was  inborn  with  Eve  when 
she  longed  to  taste  the  forbidden  fruit!" 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  SECRETS   OF   THE    HAUNTED   CHAMBER. 

Boldly  he  knocks  at  wisdom's  inmost  gate, 
With  nature  counsels,  and  communes  with  fate. 

— Charles  Sprague. 

They  ascended  a  short  but  wide  flight  of  stairs, 
and  Dr.  Granville  pushing  open  a  large  oaken 


1 68    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

door,  they  entered  the  "haunted"  chamber;  but 
now  no  longer  considered  so,  as  the  entire  village 
had  learned  its  secrets.  The  room  was  large  and 
occupied  fully  one-fourth  of  the  upper  part  of  the 
house;  the  floor  was  covered  with  smooth,  white 
tiles;  the  walls  were  nearly  all  twenty  feet  in 
height  and  contained  two  large  double  windows 
diagonally  opposite  each  other,  which  offered  a 
fine  view  for  a  number  of  miles  around  on  account 
of  their  height  above  the  surrounding  country, 
and  at  night  when  illuminated  by  the  flames  from 
the  furnace,  shone  forth  like  some  tall  beacon 
light. 

Nearly  covering  one  of  the  walls  of  the  room 
stood  several  huge  cases  with  glass  doors,  the 
shelves  of  which  were  well  filled  with  books,  bot- 
tles of  chemicals  and  scientific  apparatus,  while  in 
one  corner  stood  a  desk,  strewn  over  with  books, 
and  manuscripts,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  apart- 
ment was  a  long  table,  on  which  stood  crucibles, 
mortars,  glass  retorts,  evaporating  cups,  test 
tubes  in  racks,  iron  moulds,  spirit  lamps,  a  blow 
pipe,  chemical  balances  and  numerous  other  chem- 
ical apparatus  besides  minerals  and  metals. 

Against  the  opposite  wall  stood  the  massive 
brick  furnace  with  heavy  iron  doors  lined  with 
fire  clay,  while  on  top  were  iron  covers  which 
were  raised  and  lowered  by  means  of  a  pulley. 
Directly  above  the  furnace  was  fixed  a  mirror  at 
an  angle  enabling  one  to  see  the  interior  of  the 
furnace. 

"Well  my  little  lady,  what  do  you  think  of  my 
den?"  said  the  scientist. 

"It  has  a  true  air  of  strangeness  about  it,  and 


(A   Village  Mystery  and 
Through  War  to  Peace) 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       169 

no  wonder  the  village  people  thought  it  the  home 
of  supernatural  beings.  I  suppose  the  mirror  is 
to  enable  you  to  see  the  contents  of  the  furnace?" 

"Yes,  that  is  its  use,  for  I  sometimes  have^the 
furnace  so  hot  that  it  is  impossible  to  look  into 
it.  But  the  mirror  played  a  ghostly  part  of  which 
I  was  entirely  ignorant,  for  it  reflected  wild,  fan- 
tistic  figures  of  light  into  the  darkness  that  the 
beholder's  imagination  easily  converted  into  spir- 
its and  demons." 

"And  what  caused  the  wild  screams  and  col- 
ored flames  that  shone  from  the  window?" 

"They  were  the  roar  of  the  fire,  and  the  col- 
ored lights  were  produced  by  the  different  chem- 
icals used." 

"Did  you  really  succeed  in  making  diamonds?" 

"Yes,  but  it  can  hardly  be  called  a  success,  for 
I  was  only  able  to  make  very  small  ones,  and  the 
cost  of  manufacturing  them  was  more  than  their 
value." 

"How  are  diamonds  made,  or  is  that  not  to  be 
told?" 

"It  is  no  secret.  It's  a  long  operation,  but  you 
are  quite  a  chemist  and  I  will  tell  you  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  process  in  a  single  sentence;  but  first, 
what  is  a  diamond?" 

"It  is  crystalized  charcoal  or  carbon." 

"Well,  when  carbon  is  separated,  at  an  intense 
heat,  from  its  compound  by  the  aid  of  a  flux,  the 
diamond  crystals  are  formed.  But  it  was  not  so 
much  the  production  of  precious  stones  I  wished 
to  accomplish  as  to  perfect  some  valuable  inven- 


tions." 


"And  were  you  successful?" 


170   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND  , 

tj 

"Yes,  even  beyond  my  anticipations;  andJiave 
already  sold  the  inventions  for  large  sums  of 
money  besides  retaining  a  royalty  upon  them." 
Then  his  face  lit  with  enthusiasm  and  his  eyes 
sparkled  with  animation  as  he  talked  of  his  pet 
scheme.  For  he  had  a  hobby,  and  how  he  was 
able  to  put  it  into  execution  as  wealth  flowed  rap- 
idly into  his  hands.  The  project  was  to  erect  a 
large  building  in  the  neighboring  city  where  any 
poor,  homeless  person  could  obtain  a  night's  lodg- 
ing free  of  charge. 

"But,"  he  continued,  speaking  of  his  inventions, 
"several  times,  when  explosions  ruined  the  work 
of  years,  I  almost  lost  hope  of  success,  yet  the 
knowledge  I  had  gained  by  experimenting  soon 
enabled  me  to  reproduce  the  work." 

"Is  there  not,  frequently,  danger  from  explo- 
sions in  chemical  operations?" 

"Yes,  sometimes  when  chemists  are  experiment- 
ing with  new  elements  or  compounds  the  proper- 
ties of  which  they  are  unacquainted,  although  they 
seldom  occur  when  using  familiar  chemicals.  If, 
however,  a  novice  in  the  science  were  to  enter  a 
laboratory  and  pour  together  the  two  first  liquids 
he  found,  he  might  be  blown  to  atoms  in  an  in- 
stant. Thus  it  frequently  was  with  the  old  al- 
chemists, in  their  search  after  the  philosopher's 
stone,  who  lived  in  the  days  of  Artephius,  Basil 
Valentine,  Roger  Bacon,  Albert  Magnus  and 
Flamel.  Some  of  them  were  blown  to  fragments, 
others  poisoned  with  noxious  gases.  When  they 
suddenly  vanished  from  the  earth  amid  a  flash 
of  flame  and  smoke,  the  superstitious  had  an  easy 
explanation,  which  was  that  they  were  in  league 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       171 

with  the  devil  and  that  he  had  only  taken  them 
home." 

"I  suppose  there  are  many  terrible  explosives 
known  to  chemists  ?"  said  Bertie. 

"Yes,  so  powerful  and  dangerous  that  no  chem- 
ist dare  keep  them;  for  a  slight  jar  of  the  vessel 
containing  them  would  cause  the  mixture  to  ex- 
plode." 

"I  have  read  that  the  person  who  discovered 
the  fulminate  of  silver  lost  his  life  by  it." 

"It  is  supposed  so,  but  we  do  not  know,  for 
his  records  perished  with  him  when  one  day  there 
came  a  flash  of  flame  and  he  and  his  laboratory 
were  reduced  to  fragments.  So  it  was  with  the 
discoverer  of  prussic  acid,  he  was  poisoned  by  it." 

"Prussic  acid  must  be  a  fearful  poison,"  said 
Bertie,  "for  I  have  read  that  a  few  drops  upon 
the  pulse  of  the  wrist  produced  instant  death.  If 
I  remember  the  story  correctly,  'two  lovers  were 
imprisoned  in  France  in  two  cells  with  but  a  small 
opening  between  them;  and  despairing  of  ever  re- 
gaining their  freedom,  they  resolved  to  die.  The 
lady  pushed  her  hand  through  the  opening  when 
her  lover  poured  several  drops  of  the  pure  acid 
upon  her  wrist;  death  instantly  followed.  Imme- 
diately he  was  liberated,  and  repented  the  deed 
for  the  remainder  of  his  life." 

"A  very  romantic  tale,"  he  said,  laughing,  "but 
it  cannot  be  quite  true,  for  pure  prussic  acid  is 
such  a  deadly  volatile  poison  that  if  a  bottle  con- 
taining but  a  half  a  tea-cupful  were  broken  in  the 
largest  church  not  a  person  would  escape  instant 
death." 


172    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Do  they  not  sell  the  acid  in  the  apothecary 
stores?" 

"Yes,  but  it  is  very  much  diluted,  consisting  of 
but  three  or  four  drops  of  the  pure  acid  to  a  pint 
of  water." 

"Chemistry  is  a  very  interesting  study,  and  the 
more  one  learns  of  its  value  for  discovery  and  in- 
vention, the  more  it  excites  wonder  and  admira- 
tion." 

"Yes,  it  is  undoubtedly  the  science  and  power 
of  the  future,  for  however  much  we  may  admire 
and  wonder  at  mechanical  and  engineering 
achievements  of  ancient  times,  chemistry  holds  the 
power  of  reducing  them  to  fragments  in  an  in- 
stant. For  chemistry  can  produce  a  shell  no 
larger  than  an  orange  that  can  tear  to  atoms  the 
largest  Egyptian  pyramid,  the  strongest  bridge  or 
the  most  massive  fortress.  Naval  warfare  has 
been  completely  revolutionized  by  the  terrible  tor- 
pedoes, which,  if  exploded  near  a  large  iron-clad 
vessel,  would  tear  her  to  fragments  as  if  she  were 
but  an  egg-shell.  In  fact  we  can  hardly  estimate 
the  fearful  strength  of  such  powerful  explosives 
as  dynamite,  vigorite,  nitro-glycerine,  and  even 
still  more  terrible  in  strength,  the  fulminates  of 
the  higher  metals. 

"But  chemistry  played  another  part  during  the 
Middle  Ages,  that  of  aiding  the  magicians  by  its 
principles,  with  some  of  which  they  were  familiar, 
to  impose  upon  the  ignorant  and  superstitious. 
But  as  knowledge  became  diffused  they  lost  their 
power  even  before  Cicero  said  of  them,  'One 
could  not  look  at  another  without  laughing.'  Yet 
in  the  Middle  Ages  nearly  all  placed  implicit  trust 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       173 

in  the  prophesies  of  magicians,  and  even  kings 
consulted  them  in  affairs  of  state.  It  is  related 
that  Louis  XI  of  France  kept  an  astrologer  named 
Galeotti,  whose  advice  he  followed  in  all  of  his 
enterprises.  But  once,  at  least,  this  astrology's 
counsel  got  the  king  in  serious  trouble.  Under 
Galeotti's  advice  Louis  journeyed  to  Peronne  to 
visit  his  old  enemy,  the  Duke  of  Burgundy.  The 
Duke,  delighted  at  having  the  king  in  his  power, 
imprisoned  him  in  the  citadel  at  Peronne.  The 
king  became  wild  with  anger  at  his  astrologer  and 
sent  for  him,  but  he  first  notified  Tristam,  the 
headsman  of  France,  to  assassinate  him  as  he  left 
the  prison;  but  Galeotti  seeing  the  executioner  as 
he  entered  matured  his  plans. 

"Louis,  after  venting  his  anger  on  the  astrolo- 
ger's head,  asked:  'If  you  know  all  things  will 
your  science  permit  you  to  name  the  hour  of  your 
death?' 

"  'Yes,'  answered  Galeotti,  not  unprepared,  'I 
will  die  just  twenty-four  hours  before  your  ma- 
jesty.' 

"The  king  was  astonished  and  frightened  by 
the  answer  and  allowed  him  to  go  unharmed.  His 
quick  wit  had  saved  his  life;  and  ever  after  they 
lived  happily  together." 

Bertha  laughed  as  she  said:  "That's  the  old 
stereotype  ending;  but  in  spite  of  all  the  nonsense 
these  adepts  in  natural  magic  have  left  us,  did  they 
not  make  many  valuable  discoveries  in  science?" 

"Yes,  particularly  the  old  alchemists  in  their 
search  after  the  philosopher's  stone,  the  elixir  of 
life  and  power  of  projection  have  enriched  the 
healing  art,  mineralogy,  geology  and  chemistry. 


174   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"In  the  Middle  Ages  alchemists  were  numer- 
ous, and  in  their  ranks  were  the  greatest  scholars 
of  the  day,  such  as  Roger  Bacon,  Valentine,  De 
Meany,  Artephius,  Sinesius,  Villeneuve,  Flamel 
and  a  host  of  other  noted  names.  Among  the 
most  famous  of  the  seekers  after  the  philosopher's 
stone  was  Basil  Valentine,  and  to  him  chemistry 
owes  a  great  debt  of  gratitude  for  the  discovery 
of  sulphuric  acid.  He  accidently  stumbled  upon  it 
while  endeavoring  to  turn  the  baser  metals  into 
gold.  It  was  a  great  aid  to  chemistry,  for  sul- 
phuric acid  is  one  of  the  greatest  powers  in  the 


science." 


"And  was  not  the  discoverer  of  gunpowder, 
Roger  Bacon,  an  alchemist?"  asked  Bertie. 

"Yes,  perhaps  the  greatest  of  them  all,  for  he 
was  a  very  learned  man.  He  was  the  re-discov- 
erer of  gunpowder  in  modern  times,  but  he 
acknowledged  that  it  was  already  known.  Though 
we  can  trace  its  use  back  to  the  Byzantine  Empire 
and  even  among  the  Arabs,  the  Chinese  were  its 
discoverers.  One  of  their  books  entitled  Wu- 
Yuen,  meaning,  "The  Origin  of  Things,'  informs 
us  that  one  'Makuin,  of  the  kingdom  of  Wei,  first 
made  fire  crackers  about  the  year  220.  It  was  not 
till  1270  that  Bacon  became  acquainted  with  its 
composition.  By  the  way,  do  you  remember  when 
and  where  gunpowder  was  first  used  in  warfare?" 

"I  think  it  was  at  the  battle  of  Creasy,  fought 
between  the  English  and  French,  I  do  not  remem- 
ber the  date." 

"Correct,"  he  said,  smiling,  "it  was  the  year 
1346,  and  the  English  used  six  pieces  of  cannon 
and  gained  a  complete  victory.  It  was  a  great 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       175 

epoch  in  the  world's  history,  for  the  overthrow 
of  civilization  can  never  occur  again,  since  science 
has  furnished  civilized  man  with  such  terrible  ex- 
plosives to  hurl  the  thunderbolts  of  war  that  he  is 
capable  of  forever  crushing  the  barbarian's  power 
of  physical  strength  and  numbers.  So  when  the 
old  alchemist  discovered  gunpowder,  though  he 
made  many  other  valuable  discoveries,  this  was 
more  valuable  than  all  the  rest." 

"Are  there  alchemists  at  the  present  time,"  she 
asked,  smiling,  "or  have  they  all  passed  away.n 

"Oh  yes;  but  they  are  generally  ignorant  of  the 
principles  of  chemistry.  For  it  has  taught  us  that 
gold  or  silver  is  an  element;  that  is,  a  thing  in 
its  simplest  and  purest  form.  In  other  words, 
gold  is  gold  and  silver  is  silver,  and  nothing 
more. 

"It  has  grown  so  dark,"  continued  Dr.  Gran- 
ville,  "that  I  must  get  a  light." 

"So  it  has,"  exclaimed  3ertie.  "The  time  has 
passed  so  pleasantly  and  I  have  been  so  deeply 
interested  that  I  did  not  think  it  was  so  late.  I 
must  hurry  home." 

They  descended  the  stairs,  and  as  she  passed 
out  of  the  hall  door  she  held  out  her  hand,  saying, 
"good-bye,  I  will  come  and  bother  you  again?" 

"Do  so,  I  always  admire  a  pretty  girl,"  he  said, 
smiling,  as  he  clasped  the  extended  hand  and 
looked  into  her  pale,  sweet  face.  As  he  watched 
her  queenly  little  figure  moved  away  he  solilo- 
quized: "She's  as  beautiful  as  an  angel;  and  as 
noble  as  she  is  beautiful.  Charlie  Landon  must 
have  been  a  fool  to  quarrel  with  her!  But  then, 


176   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

the  young  are  always  quick-tempered.     I  wish  I 
could  see  him,  for  he  deserves  a  scolding." 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 


SAD  PARTINGS. 

Oh!  I  am  sick  of  this  dark  world, 

My  heart,  my  best  affections  blighted, 
My  sails  of  joy  forever  furled, 

My  dawning  hopes  so  soon  benighted — Mcllvane. 

One  warm  evening  in  June  about  two  months 
after  the  commencement  of  the  American  $vil 
Sjfar,  May  Wentworth  came  up  into  Bertie's  cham- 
ber with  a  slow  step  and  grave  manner,  but  there 
was  an  unusual  flush  on  her  handsome  face  and 
a  rare  sparkle  in  her  blue  eyes. 

"Bertie,"  she  said,  and  there  was  something 
so  unusual  in  the  tone  of  her  voice  that  it  in- 
stantly gained  the  other's  attention. 

"You  know,"  May  Wentworth  continued,  "Ned 
Wilberton  is  a  Virginian  by  birth,  and  since  that 
state  has  joined  the  Southern  Confederacy,  it  is 
only  natural  that  his  sympathies  are  with  the 
South.  So  he  has  resolved  to  cast  his  lot  with 
her  by  accepting  a  commission  in  the  army. 
Whether  her  cause  be  right  or  wrong,  God,  in  his 
infinite  wisdom,  is  the  best  judge,  but  they  are 
Edward's  people  and  with  them  he  has  decided 
to  meet  success  or  defeat.  And  to-morrow  we 
shall  be  quietly  married,  in  the  presence  of  a  few 
of  our  best  friends  and  then  we  shall  hasten 
away." 

"I  very  much  wish,"   said  Bertha,   "that  you 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       177 

were  going  to  join  the  Union  side  instead  of  the 
Confederate.  But  then,  we  can  not  all  think  alike 
and  perhaps  it  is  better  so,  for  it  is  through  dis- 
agreements and  arguments  that  we  arrive  at  the 
truth  and  right,  as  precious  metals  are  refined  by 
rejecting  the  dross  and  baser  ones." 

Thus  they  talked  till  late,  entering  into  several 
spirited  arguments,  but  without  an  atom  of  bit- 
terness in  them,  for  they  loved  each  other  too 
dearly  to  ever  say  or  even  intimate,  an  unfriendly 
word  or  thought.  But  Bertie  was  a  true  Union- 
ist, and  was  spurred  on  by  the  thought  that  the 
man  whom  she  dearly  loved  was  risking  his  life 
for  that  cause. 

The  next  day  Edward  Wilberton  and  May  were 
married  with  only  Bertha  and  a  few  other  of  their 
dearest  friends  present.  Then  came  the  sad,  tear- 
ful parting  between  the  two  girls,  whose  hearts 
had»ever  beat  with  the  dearest  friendship  for  each 
other.  At  last,  May,  with  a  shower  of  kisses 
upon  Bertha's  upturned  lips,  tore  herself  away 
from  the  dear  arms  that  encircled  her  with  a 
heart  too  full  of  sadness  for  utterance! 

It  was  a  heavy  blow  to  Bertha  but  she  bore  it 
bravely,  for  she  had  learned  to 

"Know  how  sublime  a  thing  it  is 
To  suffer  and  be  strong." 

It  is  said  that  misfortune  never  comes  single, 
and  so  it  seemed  to  Bertha,  for  a  few  weeks  after 
May's  departure,  death  robbed  her  of  her  father. 
By  his  death  she  was  left  without  a  relation,  for 
her  aunt  had  died  nearly  a  year  before. 

After  the  first  pangs  of  her  grief  wore  away 


178    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

and  she  began  to  rally  from  the  blow,  she  thought 
that  since  her  cup  of  sorrow  had  been  filled  to  the 
brim,  there  must  come  a  change  for  the  better. 
But  alas!  for  human  knowledge,  there  were  yet 
other  trials  in  the  future  for  her.  One  day,  a 
few  weeks  after  the  loss  of  her  father,  she  re- 
ceived a  note  from  Dr.  Granville,  informing  her 
that  he,  too,  was  going  to  answer  his  country's 
call  by  giving  his  services  to  the  sick  and  wounded. 

For  Dr.  Granville  was  the  only  true  friend  left 
her  in  whom  she  could  confide  her  sorrows  and 
ask  advice  in  her  trials.  And  she  had  learned  to 
love  and  look  up  to  him,  as  to  a  father,  for  he  had 
always  gladly  given  her  words  of  advice  and  en- 
couragement; and  he  soon  learned  to  soothe  and 
even  pet  her,  for  the  sweet,  pretty  face,  worn  pale 
by  trials,  had  won  his  heart  and  even  his  admira- 
tion, too,  when  he  saw  how  nobly  she  bore  up 
under  her  troubles. 

"It  seems,"  she  thought,  as  the  tears  welled  up 
into  her  large  black  eyes,  "as  if  fate  had  marked 
me  for  her  own !  Of  the  future  I  dare  not  think 
for  it  looks  dark  and  sad,  without  even  a  ray  of 
light  across  its  path.  One  by  one  my  friends 
have  left  me,  as  my  brightest  hopes  have  fled. 
And  truly  may  I  exclaim, 

'The  hopes  my  soul  have  cherish'd 

Have  withered  one  by  one, 
And  tho'  life's  flowers  have  perish'd, 

I'm  left  to  linger  on!' 

"But  though  my  troubles  grow  thick  as  leaves 
in  a  forest,  I'll  not  yield  to  despair,  but  I'll  pray 
to  my  God  to  guide  me  in  the  path  of  duty  and 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       179 

of  peace,  for  He  has  said:  'Underneath  are  the 
everlasting  arms.'  ' 

Dr.  Granville  knew  that  it  needed  no  words  in 
his  note  to  bring  Bertie  to  his  side,  but  that  her 
noble  heart  would  turn  to  him,  like  a  child  to  its 
father.  So  he  watched  eagerly  through  the  win- 
dow for  her  coming,  and  he  had  not  long  to  look 
ere  he  saw  her  walking  up  the  path  to  the  house. 

As  he  caught  sight  of  her  handsome  little  figure 
a  shade  of  sadness  came  over  his  face  as  he 
thought.  "It  gives  me  pain  to  leave  her,  but  I 
owe  it  as  a  duty  to  my  suffering  countrymen. 
Still,  she  is  young,  brave,  and  noble  enough  to 
conquer  her  sorrow.  There  may  be — and  I  think 
there  is — a  wealth  of  happiness  in  store  for  her 
yet.  I  hope  God,  in  his  infinite  goodness,  will 
spare  Charles  Landon  for  her  sake.  For  surely 
he  will  come  to  his  senses  and  learn  what  a  noble 
treasure  he  has  thrown  away.  I  know  she  would 
be  happy  as  his  wife,  possessing  his  whole  love." 

She  entered  the  house  and  pushing  open  the 
door  of  the  study,  entered.  He  met  her  with  a 
smile  as  he  clasped  the  little  extended  hand. 

"So  you  are  going  away,"  she  said  in  a  choked 
voice.  "I  shall  miss  you  very  much.  But  I  know 
you  are  right." 

"And  it  pains  me  sadly  to  leave  you.  But  the 
sick  and  wounded  soldiers  of  our  country  need  all 


our  assistance." 


"Yes,  I  know  it  is  your  duty  to  go.  But  it 
seems  harder,  for  you  are  the  only  friend  I  have 
left!" 

"And  it  grieves  me,  as  it  does  you.  For  no 
personal  reason  would  I  think  of  doing  so." 


1 8o   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"I  know  you  would  not,"  she  said  warmly,  "I 
did  not  mean  to  complain.  For  I  can  truly  appre- 
ciate your  sacrifice,  and  the  duty  we  all  owe  to  the 
suffering  soldiers  on  the  field  of  battle." 

"I  did  not  even  for  an  instant  suspect  you  of 
complaining.  But  we  all  feel  a  regret  at  parting 
from  a  friend.  For  a  friend  is  the  greatest  and 
best  gift  on  earth.  But  after  all,"  he  said  with 
a  smile,  "there  will  be  a  compensation  for  your 
loss  in  knowing  that  I  will  be  near  to  help  one  in 
whom  we  both  take  a  deep  interest,  if  he  should 
need  it,  though  I  hope  he  may  never  require  it." 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  with  expressions  of  pain 
and  hope  sweeping  across  her  face.  "But " 

"But,  you  were  going  to  add,"  he  said,  read- 
ing the  expression  of  her  features,  "that  Charles 
Landon  is  nothing  to  you.  That  he  threw  you 
cruelly  aside." 

"Oh,  no !  not  that,  yet  he  did  treat  me  unkindly. 
But  perhaps  he  grew  weary  of  silly  me,  or  found 
some  brighter  face  to  allure  him?  If  he  has,  I 
wish  him  only  happiness." 

"No,  Bertha,  I  assure  you  he  has  found  no 
other  ladylove  to  fill  your  place  in  his  heart.  For 
his  last  words  to  me  were  solicitude  for  your  wel- 
fare, and  he  requested  me  to  always  be  a  friend 
to  you  for  his  sake.  He  told  me  he  still  loved 
you  dearly,  though  he  feared  your  heart  had  been 
estranged  from  him." 

Her  face  brightened  with  hope  and  pleasure  at 
his  words,  though  she  could  not  help  claiming  a 
woman's  privilege  of  sweet  archness,  by  asking: 

"Then,  why  did  he  write  that  cruel  letter  be- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       181 

fore  ever  asking  a  word  of  explanation?  I  would 
not  have  treated  him  so!" 

"Of  course  not,"  he  replied,  smiling.  "But  he 
has  an  excuse,  too,  for  the  letter  he  wrote  to  you 
asking  an  explanation  you  did  not  receive.  It  was 
destroyed  by  a  fire  that  occurred  in  the  post-office, 
which  the  post-master  endeavored  to  hide  from 
the  public,  but  that  has  since  been  found  out.  I 
did  not  know  of  the  loss  of  the  letter  when  I  last 
saw  him,  or  I  should  have  told  him  of  it,  and  it 
would  undoubtedly  have  changed  his  ideas." 

"Then  he  wrote  a  letter  before  the  one  I  re- 
ceived?" she  asked  eagerly. 

uYes,  did  you  not  know  of  it?" 

"No,  I  never  even  dreamed  of  one.  But  then, 
he  should  not  have  trusted  to  a  letter,  but  have 
come  manfully  forward  and  asked  for  an  explana- 
tion." 

"Yes,  it  was  an  unreasonable  action.  But  it 
was  caused  by  a  wild  delusion  on  his  part  that  you 
had  ceased  to  care  for  him.  An  hallucination, 
that  I  should  have  thought  him  too  fair-minded 
to  have  originated!" 

"I  told  him  that  he  must  be  laboring  under  a 
misconception,  but  he  argued  that  you  would  not 
answer  his  first  letter  and  that  you  refused  even 
to  meet  him." 

"Well,"  she  replied,  "I  should  have  felt  dif- 
ferently toward  him  if  I  had  known  he  had  writ- 
ten a  letter  that  I  did  not  receive.  But  still  he 
acted  rashly.  I  should  not  have  thought  it  of 
him!"  ^ 

"Neither  should  I.  But  never  mind.  I  shall 
see  him  in  a  short  time,  and  explain  all  to  him 


1 82   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

and  tell  him  to  go  and  ask  the  little  lady's  pardon, 
as  he  ought  to  have  done  long  ago!" 

"Oh  no !"  she  said,  "I  could  not  beg  him  to  love 
me !  My  pride  would  not  let  me  do  that.n 

"I  know  it  would  not.  And  I  admire  it,  too. 
But  I  shall  give  Dr.  Charles  Landon  a  scolding 
nevertheless.  And  perhaps  give  you  one,  too. 
It  does  young  people  good  to  find  fault  with  them 
once  in  a  while.  You  are  willing  to  trust  me,  are 
you  not?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  she  replied,  laughing. 

"Good!  And  bear  in  mind,  as  some  one  has 
said:  'To  let  by-gone  faults  and  errors  sleep,  and 
in  future  years  a  noble  peace  will  reign/  ' 

"Yes — "  she  said  hesitatingly.  "But  some 
things  are  hard  to  pardon,  especially  when  we 
think  we  do  not  deserve  the  treatment  we  have 
received." 

"Indeed  it  sometimes  seems  hard  to  do.  But 
one  of  the  noblest  lessons  I've  learned  in  life,  is 
to  forgive  and  as  far  as  the  heart  can,  forget; 
so  through  the  march  of  years  one's  heart  grows 
lighter  and  more  peaceful  down  earth's  rugged 
way.  I  think  you  can  learn  the  lesson,  too?" 

"Yes,  I  think  I  can.  For  he's  a  pretty  good 
fellow,  after  all!"  she  replied,  laughing. 

"You're  on  the  right  road  now,"  he  said,  with 
an  arch  smile. 

It  was  growing  late,  and  Bertha  had  several 
times  risen  to  go,  but  she  found  it  harder  than 
she  had  expected  to  leave  her  only  friend  to  whom 
her  heart  clung  so  closely.  At  last,  with  a  des- 
perate effort,  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  saying,  "I 
must  go  now." 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       183 

He  saw  the  pain  in  her  face  that  the  parting 
cost  her,  and  he  knew  it  would  be  cruel  to  detain 
her  longer,  besides  he  felt  his  own  heart  grow- 
ing each  moment  heavier. 

"Good-bye,  Bertha,"  he  said,  gently  stroking 
her  long  golden  curls  and  stooping  down  to  kiss 
her  white  brow,  as  a  father  would  that  of  a  darl- 
ing child.  "And  don't  forget,"  he  continued,  "to 
keep  up  a  brave  heart  and  all  will  be  well  yet. 
The  darkest  hour  is  just  before  the  dawn.  And 
remember,  that  the  brightest  years  and  the  noblest 
are  often  those  after  emerging  from  the  gloom  of 
strife  and  care,  like  a  star  that  shines  at  night  the 
brighter  for  its  struggle  through  the  gloom.  Put 
your  trust  in  God's  wisdom,  and  you'll  find  at  last 
that  'her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness  and  all 
her  paths  are  peace.'  ' 

"I  shall  try  to  do  so,"  she  said,  as  her  beautiful 
eyes  filled  with  tears,  "for  I  know  He  does  all 
things  for  the  best.  May  heaven  bless  you  for 
your  kindness.  Farewell !"  And  she  was  gone. 

He  stood  motionless,  watching  the  pretty,  re- 
ceding figure  with  moistened  eyes.  "It  is  harder," 
he  thought,  "to  leave  her  than  I  imagined  it  would 
be!  She  is  so  young  and  inexperienced  in  the 
world's  rough  ways,  that  I  dread  its  sordid  touch 
upon  her.  But  then  she  has  a  brave,  noble  heart 
that  will  help  her  through  many  a  trial.  She  is 
in  God's  hands,  and  I  hope  and  pray  that  He  may 
guide  and  protect  her  through  the  dark  path  of 
trials  and  temptation,  and  show  her  at  last  that, 
'They  that  sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy/  " 


1 84  THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

BERTHA'S  GUARDIAN. 

A  fugitive  from  heaven  and  prayer, 

Mocked  at  all  religious  fear, 
Deep-scienced  in  the  mazy  lore 

Of  mad  philosophy. — Horace. 

When  her  father  died  Bertha  had  not  reached 
the  legal  age  of  womanhood.  Therefore  it  was 
necessary  that  a  guardian  should  be  appointed. 
Although  she  was  old  enough  to  choose  one  she 
gladly  acquiesced  in  her  father's  wishes.  Little 
did  he  dream  into  what  a  cunning  villain's  hands 
he  was  placing  his  daughter. 

John  Shackle  had  so  engrafted  himself  into 
Captain  Merton's  good-will  by  his  affected  affable- 
ness  and  pretended  goodness  of  heart,  as  to  win 
the  captain  to  believe  that  he  was  the  exact  person 
to  take  charge  of  his  daughter. 

The  people  of  the  village  shook  their  heads  and 
doubted  whether  he  was  the  right  man  for 
Bertha's  guardian.  He  was  a  stranger  in  the  vil- 
lage; from  whence  he  came  and  of  his  previous 
career  none  knew  anything;  and  all  that  could  be 
said  of  him,  like  Banquo's  ghost,  he  was  there. 
The  Vandal  club,  what  remained  of  it,  had  tried 
to  investigate  him,  but,  as  yet,  without  success. 
He  was  a  lawyer,  and  it  was  while  acting  in  his 
professional  capacity  for  Captain  Merton  that  he 
gained  his  full  confidence,  the  captain  being  in 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       185 

feeble  health  for  some  time  before  his  death,  gave 
the  rascal  a  good  opportunity  to  mature  his  plans. 
A  few  days  after  Dr.  Granville's  departure 
Shackle  called  on  Bertie  for  the  first  time.  She 
had  met  him  several  times  before,  and  though  he 
had  always  exhibited  the  greatest  kindness  to- 
wards her,  she  could  not  help  distrust  in  him. 
She  could  not  have  told  why.  Perhaps  it  was  that 
intuitive  knowledge  by  which  a  woman  reaches  a 
conclusion  which,  nineteen  times  out  of  twenty  is 
a  correct  one,  though  she  may  not  be  able  to  give 
a  reason  and  if  asked  would  be  forced  to  answer 
as  Shakespeare  says: 

"I  have  no  other  but  a  woman's  reason: 
I  think  him  so,  because  I  think  him  so." 

When  Bertha  entered  the  parlor  Shackle  arose 
with  his  face  wreathed  with  smiles  and  held  out 
his  hand.  She  slightly  touched  it  and  coldly 
bowed  in  answer  to  his  condescending  "Good- 
morning."  He  was  a  tall,  thin  man  with  wide,  an- 
gular shoulders,  a  narrow  chest  and  body  to  which 
no  amount  of  tailor's  padding  could  give  rotund- 
to  rather  than  fitted  his  emaciated  legs.  He  had 
a  slim  neck  in  which  the  blood-vessels  stood  out 
prominently  and  like  whip  cords.  His  face  was 
ity,  spider-like  legs  and  long,  slim  feet,  of  which 
the  Vandals  said :  "If  so  much  of  his  legs  had  not 
turned  up  for  feet  he  would  have  been  a  very 
tall  man."  He  was  dressed  in  the  height  of 
fashion,  a  black  frock  coat  that  hung  loosely  from 
his  long,  broad  shoulders,  a  vest  buttoned  closely 
about  his  narrow  body  and  almost  hidden  by  the 
lapping  breasts  of  his  coat.  The  pantaloons  clung 


1 86   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

sallow  and  cleanly  shaven,  with  a  long,  narrow 
chin;  lips  thin  and  flabby  with  a  peculiar  curl  of 
contempt  when  not  wreathed  in  smiles.  His  nose 
was  prominent  and  of  the  Roman  type;  his  eyes 
were  large  and  black  and  at  times  might  be  called 
handsome;  but  when  excited  with  passion  they 
become  of  a  greenish  shade  with  a  cold  glitter  in 
them,  darting  their  gleams  around  like  a  wild 
animal  seeking  his  prey.  His  forehead  was  large 
and  bony,  surrounded  with  long,  straight,  black 
hair.  It  was  a  repulsive  countenance,  but  still 
there  was  a  fascination  about  it.  The  countenance 
also  showed  cunning  determination  and  no  small 
amount  of  conceit  which  he  sometimes  expressed 
in  words,  as  when  trying  to  intimidate  or  carry  a 
point,  he  would  say:  "I  am  a  lawyer,  I  have 
several  times  refused  a  seat  upon  the  bench." 

Seating  himself  in  a  large  arm  chair,  Shackle 
said  with  nonchalance,  in  a  calm,  oily  tone: 

"Really,  Miss  Merton,  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
you.  I  hope  you  are  well;  you  look  quite  pale." 

"I  am  not  ill,"  she  replied  laconically. 

uBut  you  are  not  in  good  spirits,  and  I  am  not 
surprised.  You  have  had  a  great  deal  of  trouble 
lately  and  I  am  truly  sorry  for  you.  I  was  grieved 
to  learn  that  your  friend,  Dr.  Granville,  was  com- 
pelled to  leave  you.  He  is  a  great  and  good 
man,  and  I  know  you  will  sadly  miss  him.  But 
you  must  try  and  let  my  humble  self  fill  his  place 
as  far  as  possible,  for  God  knows  I  have  your 
happiness  at  heart,  my  dear  Miss  Merton."  And 
his  glittering  eyes  lost  their  coldness  and  really 
seemed  to  grow  beautiful  while  his  homely  face 
lit  up  with  warm  pleasure.  Undoubtedly  her 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       187 

sweet  face  had  won  his  heart  for  the  few  mo- 
ments and  made  him  forget  his  cold,  calculating 
nature.  For  sinful  as  a  man  may  be,  he  still  has 
a  love  for  the  beautiful  and  true.  There  is  a 
mystic  charm  about  modest  beauty  that  wins  the 
heart's  truest  qualities  as  well  as  the  eye's  ad- 
miration. 

Bertha  instantly  noticed  the  change  that  came 
over  his  face  and  her  heart  softened  as  she 
thought:  "Perhaps  I  have  wronged  him,  he  may 
have  a  noble  purpose  hidden  behind  his  homely 
countenance."  And  when  she  spoke  again  her 
voice  had  lost  its  restraint  and  regained  its  usual 
sweetness. 

He  quickly  detected  the  change,  his  face  became 
animated  with  gratification  and  exultation. 

"Yes,  Dr.  Granville  is  truly  a  good  man." 

"One  of  God's  noblemen,"  he  replied,  with  a 
crafty  smile,  as  he  saw  he  had  touched  a  tender 
chord  in  her  feelings  and  resolved  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  it.  "I  know,"  he  continued  in  his  cun- 
ning way,  "that  Dr.  Granville  is  a  rare  scholar 
and  worthy  man,  whose  place  in  your  affections 
it  will  be  hard  to  fill;  for  his  nature  is  sweetness 
itself.  But  keep  up  a  brave  heart  my  dear  Miss 
Merton,  and  perhaps,  ere  long,  he  will  be  back 
again.  In  the  meantime  do  not  despair,  but  re- 
member I  am  always  your  friend  and  it  will  al- 
ways give  me  pleasure  to  do  you  a  favor." 

"Oh,  thank  you  very  kindly,  and  I  can  appre- 
ciate your  offer,  for  a  friend  is  one  of  the  greatest 
of  blessings.  In  return  I  shall  try  and  not  be  a 
trouble  to  you." 

A  triumphant  smile  stole  over  his  face  as  he 


1 88   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

said,  "You  can  never  be  that,  for  it  will  always 
be  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  help  you." 

"I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  kind- 
ness," she  answered  as  a  slight  blush  of  shame 
tinged  her  cheek  at  the  thought  of  how  she  had 
doubted  his  good  intentions. 

He  noticed  it  with  satisfaction  as  he  said  in  an 
oily  tone: 

"Yes,  I  know  you  will.  It  is  natural  to  your 
sweet  nature;  but  I  will  say  no  more  about  it," 
noticing  her  confusion  at  his  words  of  praise. 

"Certainly,  I  shall  always  value  your  kindness." 

"Good-bye,  Miss  Merton,  and  remember  I  am 
always  at  your  service." 

"Thank  you,"  she  replied. 

Nearly  a  month  passed  during  which  Shackle 
called  on  Bertha  every  day.  Though  his  langu- 
age showed  the  greatest  solicitude  for  her  welfare, 
some  indescribable  feeling  made  her  doubt  his 
sincerity  in  spite  of  all  her  reasoning. 

"I  know,"  she  thought  one  day,  "it  is  wrong 
to  attribute  sinister  motives  to  his  expressions  of 
kindness.  I  will  conquer  this  aversion  to  him, 
for  unprepossessing  in  face  and  form,  he  has  a 
noble  heart.  His  every  word  and  act  have  shown 
only  gentleness  and  regard."  Here  she  was  in- 
terrupted in  her  reverie  by  the  announcement  of 
a  servant  that  the  object  of  her  thoughts  was 
waiting  for  her  in  the  parlor.  She  immediately 
went  down,  and  as  she  saw  him,  suddenly  the  old 
antipathy  arose  in  her  breast;  but  she  instantly 
mastered  it  and  met  him  with  a  sweet  smile. 

"I  am  pleased  to  see  you  looking  so  well,  Miss 
Merton." 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       189 

"Thank  you,  I  could  not  help  gaining  good 
spirits,  under  all  the  kindness  I  am  receiving." 

"I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  say  so.  For  I 
always  have  your  happiness  at  heart.  But  do  you 
not  become  lonesome  at  times  ?" 

"Oh,  no,  I  am  kept  busy  nearly  all  the  time 
with  my  painting  and  other  studies.  You  know 
there  is  nothing  like  employment  to  keep  away 


ennui." 


"Yes,  I  know.  But  do  you  not  miss  your 
friends?" 

"Oh,  yes.  But  then  you  are  all  so  kind  that  I 
should  be  ungrateful  to  complain." 

"I  always  try  to  be  kind  to  you.n 

"And  you  always  are." 

"It  affords  me  great  pleasure  to  hear  you  say 
so.  For  as  I  said  before,  Miss  Merton,  I  love 
you!  I  know,"  he  added  quickly,  "I  am  not  a 
handsome  man,  and  I  am  older  than  you.  But  I 
love  you  dearly  and  sincerely.  I  had  not  thought 
to  speak  to  you  of  it,  but  my  heart  gained  the 
mastery  over  myself." 

Her  countenance  grew  deathly  pale  at  his 
words,  while  an  expression  of  bewilderment  came 
into  her  beautiful  face,  mingled  with  fear,  as  she 
arose  and  stood  clinging  to  the  chair  for  support 
and  casting  furtive  glances  toward  the  door,  as 
if  longing  to  run  away. 

"It — it  is — is  so  sudden!"  she  stammered. 

"Yes,  I  know,  my  dear  Miss  Bertha,  but  take 
your  own  time  to  consider  it.  Think  it  calmly 
over  and  I  know  you  will  decide  right.  I  will 
leave  you  now.  Good-bye,"  he  said,  far  too  dis- 
creet to  push  his  suit  further  and  risk  defeat. 


1 90   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Good-day,"  she  said  mechanically,  still  too  be- 
wildered to  collect  her  thoughts. 

He  gave  a  triumphant  chuckle  as  he  left  the 
house,  and  muttered  to  himself: 

"It  wasn't  a  bad  beginning.  She  only  seemed 
bewildered,  not  angry.  She  wants  working  upon 
gradually,  and  I'll  win  her  yet,  by  fair  means  if 
I  can,  by  foul  if  I  must." 

She  stood  for  several  moments  supporting  her- 
self by  the  chair,  like  one  in  a  trance,  till  the  warm 
blood  began  surging  back  to  her  heart  again,  and 
then  she  threw  herself  upon  the  sofa,  realizing 
for  the  first  time  the  full  meaning  of  Shackle's 
words. 

Her  first  thoughts  were:  "Have  I  done  any- 
thing to  encourage  him,  or  even  lead  him  to  this 
action?  I  am  sure  I  never  dreamed  of  this!  He 
is  old  enough  to  be  my  father,  and  I  never  thought 
of  him  in  any  other  sense  than  a  girl  would  of  a 
father.  Oh,  have  I?  Have  I  done  wrong? 
Have  I  made  this  man  believe  I  loved  him?  I 
am  sure  I  have  never  thought  of  anything  but  the 
purest  friendship  toward  him.  It  is  impossible; 
and  I  am  compelled  to  make  him  my  enemy  when 
I  need  a  friend  so  much!  But  I  must  be  true  to 
my  heart  and  conscience,"  she  thought  bravely, 
"let  come  what  may!" 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       191 


CHAPTER  XXV. 
BERTHA'S  CAPTIVITY. 

Thy  love  is  lust,  thy  friendship  all  a  cheat, 
Thy  smiles  hypocrisy,  thy  words  deceit. — Byron. 

Nearly  a  week  had  passed  since  the  last  conver- 
sation recorded  between  Bertha  and  Shackle, 
and  not  a  word  of  love  had  been  spoken  to  her 
although  he  called  regularly  every  day,  but  it  was 
only  part  of  his  strategy,  for  one  afternoon  he 
gradually  led  the  conversation  up  to  the  subject 
always  uppermost  in  his  mind,  in  his  shrewd  man- 
ner. But  this  time  he  did  not  find  her  unprepared 
for  his  glib,  adroit  words,  besides,  the  Vandals 
had  discovered  bad  actions  in  his  past  life  (which 
had  reached  her  ear)  and  since  they  had  obtained 
a  clue,  detective-like,  they  were  making  rapid 
strides  towards  revealing  his  former  villainy. 
Although  their  knowledge  of  Shackle's  former 
career  consisted  only  of  rumors  and  general  gos- 
sip, (far  from  positive  proof),  they  had  accumu- 
lated a  wonderful  amount  of  it.  But  in  their  work 
of  unearthing  his  rascality,  they  sadly  missed  the 
valuable  services  of  Jerry  Marshall,  Jim  Kelly, 
Dave  Johnson,  and  above  all,  Tom  Gleaton,  who 
were  far  away  on  the  battle  fields. 

In  answer  to  the  question,  why  they  were  so  de- 
termined in  exposing  him,  instead  of  aiding  him  as 
they  did  Phantom?  They  replied:  "That  he 
would  not  fraternize  with,  or  even  recognize  them. 


192    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Besides,  he  was  a  bad  fellow,  and  they  were  going 
to  'crush'  him!" 

Bertha  listened  in  silence  to  Shackle's  long  sen- 
tence of  honeyed  words,  then  she  said,  respectfully 
but  firmly: 

"Mr.  Shackle,  I  am  sorry  for  this.  It  is  im- 
possible!" 

" Why  impossible  ?'\ 

"Because  my  heart  is  not  mine  to  give.  It  be- 
longs to  another." 

"But  you  may  forget  him." 

"No,  I  have  not  a  fickle  fancy  to  become  enam- 
ored with  every  fresh  face  I  see." 

Her  answer  nettled  him,  though  he  endeavored 
not  to  show  it  as  he  said,  "But,  if  that  person  had 
thrown  you  aside  as  not  worth  his  affections?" 

"You  are  presuming." 

"No,  I  think  not.  But  I  never  would  have 
treated  you  so,  for  I  love  you  dearly,  aye,  desper- 
ately." 

"Mr.  Shackle,  I  beg  of  you  to  talk  no  longer 
upon  the  subject.  It  is  not  in  rny  power  to  grant 
your  wish." 

"You  are  mistaken,  my  dear  Miss  Merton. 
You  are  not  acting  for  your  own  good." 

"Perhaps  not.  But  I  think  I  am  the  best  judge 
of  that." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  my  dear  Miss  Merton,  but 
I  am  afraid  you  are  in  error  and — " 

"Then,  be  so  kind  as  to  leave  me  in  error!" 
she  answered,  interrupting. 

"I  cannot,  I  have  your  welfare  too  much  at 
heart." 

"Mr.  Shackle,"  she  said  in  a  confused  manner, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       193 

"I  can  never  love  you,  though  I  may  very  much 
respect  you !" 

"All  I  ask  of  you  is  to  try,  and  I  am  sure  you 
will  succeed !" 

"I  should  make  but  a  poor  attempt  at  it.  I 
will  promise  you  anything  else.  But  that  I  cannot 
do." 

"Then  promise  me  that  you  will  try  to  fulfill 
an  engagement  with  me.  I  will  not  consider  it 
binding.  You  may  break  it  whenever  you  wish. 
I  only  wish  you  to  endeavor  to  do  so.  You  know 
^ou  are  alone  in  the  world,  and  I  am  thinking  only 
C  f  what  is  best  for  you.  And — " 

"What!"  she  exclaimed,  interrupting  him, 
"enter  into  an  engagement  of  mere  empty  words 
that  my  heart  would  not  sanction!  No!  never! 
never!"  she  cried,  turning  her  gaze  full  upon  his 
face  for  the  first  time,  her  large,  black  eyes  flash- 
ing defiance. 

His  features  were  convulsed  with  subdued  pas- 
sion that  made  her  apprehensive  of  danger,  but 
her  brave  nature  did  not  cower. 

He  was  a  good  diviner  of  character,  and  in- 
stantly saw  that  he  had  played  stratagem  to  the 
end,  as  he  thought:  "She  has  more  pluck  than 
I  gave  her  credit  for.  But  I'll  conquer  her  in 
spite  of  all." 

"You  must  remember,  my  lady!"  he  said  with 
a  sneer,  "that  you  are  my  ward!" 

"But  that  does  not  make  me  your  slave!" 

"But  it  is  your  duty  to  obey  me  till  you  are  of 
legal  age." 

"Ah,  indeed!  how  considerate  you  are!" 


i94   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"It  is  evident,"  he  cried  savagely,  "that  you  are 
not  aware  of  my  power!" 

"I  think  I  am,"  she  exclaimed  contemptuously, 
"and  it  amounts  to  but  little!" 

"Ah!"  he  cried  with  a  sneer,  "you  are  quite 
mistaken.  But  I  am  fully  aware  of  it,  as  a  man 
learned  in  the  law,  who  has  several  times  refused 
a  seat  on  the  bench." 

"You  are  more  learned  in  villainy,  I  should 
think!"  she  cried  scornfully. 

"You  are  not  acting  as  a  lady  should,  when  ad- 
dressing a  gentleman." 

"But  am  I  addressing  a  gentleman?" 

"You  are!"  he  exclaimed  haughtily. 

"I  suppose  you  rest  your  qualities  of  being  a 
gentleman  upon  your  past  life?" 

"What  do  you  know  about  my  past  life?" 

"Enough  for  me,  that  it  is  far  from  that  be- 
coming a  gentleman!" 

"To  what  do  you  refer?  I  demand  to  know!" 
he  cried  angrily. 

"But  suppose  I  do  not  choose  to  tell?" 

"I  demand  to  know!" 

"Well,  I  have  no  objection  to  tell  you." 

"Well,  what!  what!"  he  yelled  angrily. 

"That  your  name  is  not  Shackle !  In  fact,  that 
you  change  it  at  pleasure,"  she  replied  coolly. 

"It's  a  lie !"  he  yelled  wildly,  his  eyes  protrud- 
ing and  his  body  writhing  with  anger. 

"If  it  is  a  falsehood,  it  seems  to  excite  you  very 
much." 

"And  justly,"  he  said,  more  calmly,  "when  an 
honest  man  is  traduced  in  this  base  manner !  But 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       195 

who  informed  you  of  all  this?"  he  asked  with  a 
sneer. 

"Is  it  not  sufficient  to  say  that  I  heard  it?" 

"No,  madam !  But  I  know  the  authors  of  this 
cowardly  falsehood!  It  is  those  contemptible  vil- 
lains the  Vandals !  And  I  will  have  every  one  of 
them  in  prison  for  slander  before  they  are  a  week 
older,"  he  cried  passionately,  bringing  his  clenched 
fist  heavily  down  upon  the  table. 

"Every  one  of  them?"  she  asked  sarcastically. 

"Yes,  every  one  of  them!  The  infernal 
sneaks!" 

"Indeed!"  she  replied,  in  her  most  insolent 
tone. 

"Indeed — In — deed!"  he  cried,  stammering 
with  passion.  "I — I — will  soon  show  them !  But 
do  you  believe  these  infernal  lies?" 

"I  decline  to  answer  your  question." 

"You  do?" 

"Yes,"  coolly. 

"Then,  take  care  that  you  do  not  occupy  a  cell 
with  them." 

"You  need  not  try  to  frighten  me." 

"I  am  not  trying  to  frighten  you,  I  mean  it. 
You  do  not  know  me?"  sarcastically. 

"No,"  she  answered,  "not  even  your  name!" 

"Take  care,  Miss,  that  you  do  not  lay  yourself 
liable  to  the  law.  You  are  treading  on  dangerous 
ground." 

"Ami?" 

"You  shall  suffer  for  this  insolence!" 

"How?" 

"Never  mind!" 

"But  how?" 


196   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"By  law.     Remember  you  are  my  ward." 

"Yes,  I  do,  and  it  has  been  very  forcibly  im- 
pressed upon  my  mind  lately!" 

"Not  half  as  forcibly  as  it  will  be  if  you  do 
not  act  more  reasonably.  Bear  in  mind  that  I  am 
a  lawyer.  I  have  several  times  refused  a  seat 
upon  the  bench.  And  I  will  show  you  the  power 
of  the  law!" 

"What  can  you  do?" 

"What  can  I  do?"  he  cried  sneeringly.  "I 
could  give  you  a  character  that  no  respectable 
person  would  wish  to  associate  with  you!  And 
make  you  glad  to  accept  me  as  a  husband!" 

"You  are  a  villain!"  she  cried  with  alarm. 

"Ah,  ha!"  he  said  tauntingly,  "it  is  your  turn 
to  grow  excited." 

"But  the  law  would  not  give  you  that  power?" 

"Perhaps  not.  But  you  would  have  no  wit- 
nesses to  refute  my  words.  And  the  law  puts  you 
under  my  control.  You  are  my  ward!" 

"We  shall  see!" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  that  with  all  your  cunning,  I  may  yet 
be  able  to  outwit  you." 

"Ah!  my  lady,  do  you  think  so?  Be  not  too 
sure  of  that.  For  I  could  so  have  you  in  my 
power,  that  if  that  young  lover  of  yours,  Dr. 
Landon,  were  to  meet  you  in  the  street,  he  would 
pass  you  by  as  if  you  were  a  woman  of  the  town! 
How  do  you  like  it?" 

Her  face  blanched,  even  whiter,  while  a  strange 
fear  seized  her  heart. 

He  watched  her  dejection  for  several  moments 
with  a  fiendish  smile,  then  said  exultingly: 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       197 

"You  don't  like  the  picture,  eh?  Then  act  rea- 
sonable and  promise  to  be  my  wife.  And  not  a 
power  on  earth  shall  hurt  a  hair  of  your  head!" 

"You  are  very  considerate!"  she  replied,  dis- 
gust pictured  on  her  face  and  scorn  in  her  voice 
that  words  could  not  express. 

"Oh,  ho!"  he  said  sarcastically,  "you  play 
tragedy  very  well !  You  would  make  a  fine 
actress.  But  wait  a  moment,  I  have  something 
to  show  you  which  I  think  will  interest  you !" 

Shackle  slowly  drew  from  the  breast-pocket  of 
his  coat  a  parchment,  and  quickly  unfolding  it, 
held  it  up  before  her  gaze. 

She  hastily  read  it,  and  saw  that  it  was  a 
printed  marriage  certificate,  in  the  blank  spaces  of 
which  her  name  and  that  of  Shackle  had  been 
written,  and  that  it  was  signed  by  the  clergyman 
of  a  neighboring  town,  and  also  by  two  witnesses 
whom  she  did  not  know. 

A  spasm  of  anguish  and  terror  shot  through 
her  heart  as  she  realized  its  meaning,  and  thought, 
"what  is  not  this  man  capable  of  doing?"  But 
she  hastily  controlled  her  feeling,  and  asked 
calmly,  though  her  voice  slightly  trembled: 

"Let  me  have  it  a  moment?" 

"No,  you  might  destroy  it.  And  it  may  prove 
useful  to  me." 

"It's  a  forgery !  And  you  know  it !  The  whole 
thing  is  a  miserable  sham  written  by  you !" 

"Did  you  notice  the  clergyman's  name  and 
those  of  the  two  witnesses  signed  to  it?" 

"Yes,  and  they  were  written  by  you." 

"No,  they  were  not." 

"Then  who  wrote  them?"  she  asked,  contemp- 


198   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

tuously.  "You  know  very  well,  I  never  was  mar- 
ried to  you,  nor  ever  went  anywhere  with  you  in 
public!" 

I  am  willing  to  admit  nothing  of  the  kind!  I 
shall  simply  tell  you  that  two  persons  were  mar- 
ried last  Thursday  in  the  church,  in  the  neighbor- 
ing town,  by  the  clergyman  whose  name  is  signed 
to  the  certificate  and  in  the  presence  of  the  two 
witnesses.  One  of  the  contracting  parties  was 
myself,  the  other  very  much  resembled  you.  And 
your  name  was  the  name  she  gave." 

"How  have  you  accomplished  this  villainy? 
Have  you  hired  some  one  to  personate  me?" 

"That  might  be?  Money  will  do  almost  any- 
thing. But  were  you  not  really  the  person?"  he 
asked  sneeringly. 

She  was  too  much  stunned  by  these  terrible 
words  to  make  any  reply.  For  there  crept  into 
her  heart  a  terrible  fear  that  she  was  in  this  man's 
power,  and  that  he  could  claim  her  as  his  wife. 

He  saw  her  dejection  as  he  arose  to  leave,  and 
an  expression  came  over  her  features  that  made 
him  resemble  a  human  fiend  as  he  said: 

"In  the  eye  of  the  law  you  are  my  wife,  Mrs. 
Shackle,  I  shall  now  leave  you  to  realize  that  fact. 
When  you  wish  to  see  me  you  need  only  send  me 
word  and  I  will  come." 

When  he  was  gone  she  remained  reclining  in 
the  chair,  deathly  pale  with  a  terrible  anguish 
tearing  at  her  heart.  It  was  only  with  a  strong 
effort  that  she  kept  herself  from  fainting. 

"I  little  imagined  what  villainy  that  man  was 
capable  of  doing.  He  is  bad  enough  to  do  any- 
thing. But  I  will  never  yield  to  him.  I  will  fly 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       199 

from  my  home  first!  Oh,  how  I  long  for  Charlie 
Landon's  strong  arms  to  protect  me  from  him, 
and  for  his  dear  kind  breast  to  rest  my  weary, 
aching  head  upon.  I  know  if  Charlie  were  here 
he  would  protect  me  from  this  villain  and  would 
soon  drive  him  hence.  If  I  could  only  go  to 
noble  Dr.  Granville  and  ask  his  advice,  and  re- 
ceive his  aid,  all  would  be  well.  But  he,  too,  is 
gone.  I  have  not  a  friend  in  the  world.  Must 
I  yield  to  this  villain's  power?  Never!  I  must 
outwit  him!"  But  a  terrible  fear  swept  over  her 
mind  lest  she  could  not  do  so.  "I  will  resist  him 
to  the  last,  if  it  be  to  death." 

That  night  after  she  had  prepared  for  bed,  she 
knelt  down  and  prayed  fervently  for  aid  and  di- 
rection in  her  troubles.  Then  she  lay  down  and 
tried  to  sleep,  but  in  vain.  Her  head  tossed  rest- 
lessly upon  the  pillow  until  nearly  morning,  when 
she  fell  into  a  fitful  slumber  broken  by  wild 
dreams. 

She  arose  late  the  next  morning  and  went  down 
to  breakfast.  She  was  surprised  to  see  a  strange 
woman  attending  the  table.  Her  first  impulse  was 
to  inquire  for  the  old  servant,  but  the  next  instant 
the  truth  flashed  upon  her  that  Shackle  had  dis- 
charged her  and  placed  this  one  in  her  place. 
Bertha  longed  to  make  inquiries  of  the  woman  but 
the  latter's  cold,  calculating  eyes,  and  sallow,  mas- 
culine features  with  sternness  stamped  upon  them, 
gave  her  no  encouragement.  So  she  sat  drinking 
her  tea  in  silence,  and  watching  the  powerful,  an- 
gular form  of  the  woman  as  she  moved  about  the 
table,  while  she  thought,  "I  have  no  pity  to  expect 
from  her." 


200   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

After  drinking  her  tea  and  eating  a  few  mor- 
sels of  food,  Bertha  arose  from  the  table  and  di- 
rected her  steps  toward  the  stable,  thinking  that 
after  her  bad  night's  rest,  a  ride  in  the  open  air 
would  revive  her  drooping  spirits.  The  woman 
followed  to  the  door  and  stood  watching  her 
closely,  though  Bertha  did  not  notice  her.  She 
entered  the  stable,  expecting  to  find  Tom  (the 
old  hostler),  and  to  tell  him  to  saddle  her  fav- 
orite horse,  but  Tom  was  not  there;  another  man 
had  taken  his  place. 

She  stood  motionless,  biting  her  plump,  red  lips 
with  subdued  anger,  as  she  thought: 

"So,  Shackle  has  discharged  good  faithful  Tom 
also." 

But  she  said  calmly,  "Will  you  saddle  my  black 
horse  for  me,  please?" 

"I  beg  pardon,  Miss,"  said  the  man  respect- 
fully, "but  Mr.  Shackle  said  as  how  you  was  not 
to  ride  out  without  his  leave." 

The  hot  blood  rushed  to  her  face  from  indig- 
nation and  she  was  about  to  make  an  angry  reply, 
but  the  next  moment  she  thought,  "I  will  not  let 
this  man  see  my  humiliation,"  so  she  said  quietly: 

"Very  well,"  and  turning  on  her  heel,  left  the 
stable. 

"By  jingo!"  said  the  hostler,  "she's  a  beauty! 
But  old  Shackle  says  she's  a  wild  'un.  But  she 
was  civil  to  me,  I'll  be  bound." 

Bertha  entered  the  house  humiliated  and  angry, 
sweeping  past  the  woman  without  even  a  look, 
walked  to  the  front  door  and  opened  it.  There 
stood  a  man,  a  short,  broad-shouldered  fellow 
with  a  bullet  shaped  head  on  which  the  hair  was 


(A  Village  Mystery  and 
Through  War  to  Peace) 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      201 

cut  close,  a  scarred  face  and  a  disfigured  blood- 
shot eye  over  which  a  green  shade  was  tied. 

"Good  morning,'*  she  said,  "you  are  Mr. 
Shackle's  man?" 

"Yes,  Miss,"  he  replied  with  a  silly  grin. 

She  turned  and  walked  to  the  window,  as  she 
muttered  thoughtfully  to  herself: 

"I'm  a  prisoner  in  my  own  house.  It  has  come 
to  the  worst!" 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A  STORMY  INTERVIEW. 

Though  at  times  my  spirit  fails  me, 

And  bitter  tear-drops  fall, 
Though  my  lot  is  hard  and  lonely, 

Yet  I  hope — I  hope  through  all. — Mrs.  Norton. 

Three  days  of  Bertha's  captivity  had  passed 
and  nothing  of  particular  importance  had  oc- 
curred, though  she  had  endeavored  to  engage  the 
woman  in  conversation  but  she  proved  taciturn, 
repelling  every  action  or  word  in  her  cold,  heart- 
less way.  So  she  gave  up  all  hopes  of  gaining 
any  aid  or  friendship  from  her  and  turned  her 
attention  to  the  bullet-headed  captor.  She  always 
met  him  with  a  smile  and  even  words  of  kindness 
that  she  thought  were  not  entirely  wasted,  for 
though  he  met  her  with  a  shame-faced  smile  which 
seemed  to  say  that — though  his  task  was  a  dis- 
agreeable one — he  meant  to  perform  it,  still  there 
gradually  came  into  his  manner  and  words  a  rude, 
gentleness,  bordering  on  kindness.  He  was  only 
on  watch  at  night,  being  relieved  during  the  day 


202   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

by  a  dressy  villain  whom  Bertha  disliked  from 
the  first,  so  she  made  no  advance  toward  him,  but 
treated  him  with  silent  contempt. 

On  the  third  evening  of  her  imprisonment  she 
was  standing  at  the  parlor  window  looking  out, 
and  feeling  more  sad  and  disheartened  than  usual; 
it  was  fast  growing  dark,  yet  in  the  fading  twilight 
she  could  still  discern  shadowy  objects. 

Suddenly  the  rose-bush  under  the  window 
moved,  and  the  next  instant  a  curly  head  popped 
in  sight.  It  did  not  startle  her,  for  she  had  be- 
come too  used  to  surprises  in  the  last  few  days 
to  heed  one  now.  . 

The  curly  head  doffed  his  hat  and  said  in  a 
muffled,  though  distinct  tone : 

"Miss  Merton,  here's  a  letter.  Don't  let 
Shackle  see  it,  or  his  friend?" 

She  eagerly  seized  the  letter  and  put  it  in  her 
pocket. 

"Thank  you.    I  will  not." 

Instantly  the  head  disappeared  from  sight,  then 
she  noticed  a  bush  move  near  the  window,  then 
another,  and  another  still  further  away,  and  a  few 
seconds  after  she  saw  a  Vandal  rise  up  near  the 
garden  fence  and  look  eagerly  around — as  if  to 
see  whether  or  not  he  was  watched — and  then 
lightly  vault  over  it,  and  walk  down  the  street 
whistling  "The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me." 

Bertha  placed  her  hand  upon  the  letter  in  her 
pocket,  as  if  she  feared  it  might  fly  away,  and  then 
hurried  to  her  room.  She  lit  a  lamp,  and  lock- 
ing the  door,  took  the  letter,  carefully  examined 
the  address,  but  it  was  strange  writing  that  she 
had  never  before  seen.  It  resembled  that  of  a 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      203 

school  boy  just  learning  to  write,  or  that  of  a 
person  who  was  unused  to  writing. 

Her  curiosity  excited,  she  eagerly  tore  it  open 
and  glanced  at  the  signature.  It  was  from  the 
Vandal  Club,  and  was  a  literary  curiosity  as  the 
combined  production  of  that  institution.  It  be- 
came evident  to  Bertha  as  she  read  that  the  lit- 
erary talent  of  the  club  was  absent,  for  there  was 
a  recklessness  of  grammar  that  would  have  scan- 
dalized Lindley  Murray,  and  a  disregard  for 
spelling  that  would  have  routed  Johnson,  Walker, 
Webster  and  the  host  of  other  lexicographers  and 
caused  them  to  fear  that  they  had  wasted  their 
time  in  compiling  dictionaries,  but  that  would  have 
delighted  Josh  Billings  in  its  freedom,  or  the  most 
radical  of  spelling  reformers. 

One  could  easily  see  by  the  epistle  that  Jerry 
Marshall,  Gleaton  and  several  other  Vandals 
were  absent,  for  they  never  would  have  allowed 
such  a  composition  to  leave  the  club.  But  where 
was  Dick  Lex?  the  reader  asks.  Away  on  one  of 
his  periodical  drinking  frolics. 

Bertha  could  not  help  smiling  in  spite  of  her 
low  spirits,  as  she  read  over  the  unique  epistle. 
It  was  as  follows : 

"Miss  MERTON: — Dear  Miss.  We  has  been 
investigatin'  this  fellar  Shackle's  reckord  an'  it's 
a  gud  deel  like  a  mule's.  Nuthin'  to  brag  of. 
He's  not  to  be  trusted,  he'll  kik  every  pop.  An' 
like  a  mule  he's  a  heap  of  ugliness  between  his 
big  ers.  An'  he  must  bee  rellated  to  a  jackass  fur 
he's  allways  brayin',  an  he's  no  pride  of  ancis- 
try  and  no  hope  fur  gloray. 


204  THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"He's  rel  name  is  James  Sneaker.  An*  you 
bet  he's  a  rel  sneek.  It  wuz  him,  as  led  Jerry 
Marshall's  sister  astray.  An'  ef  Marshall  wuz 
here,  he'd  nock"  (here  a  word  was  so  perfectly 
blotted  that  a  Philadelphia  lawyer  could  not  make 
it  out)  "out  of  him.  Thin  this  sam  old  snooser, 
we  mean  Shackle — Sneaker,  fearged  a  chick  on  the 
Dooblin  bank,  thin  he  slid  out  to  Lundun.  But 
the  perlice  follered  him.  An'  won  nite  a  Lundun 
perliceman  jumped  him,  an'  Shackle  stabbed  him 
and  thru  his  body  in  Tames  river.  That  wuz 
murder!  Sine  thin,  the  Brittishe  dertectives  hav 
ben  hot  after  him. 

"Aboudt  that  marage  sirtificate,  it  iz  a"  (here 
another  word,  evidently  an  oath,  was  blotted  out), 
"humbug.  It's  a  lye.  He  writ  it  hisself.  We 
fond  it  out  this  way,  He  wint  inter  the  Kort 
House  an'  hung  his  big  coat  on  a  peg,  and  we 
went  threw  it.  For  we  thort  that  he  wuz  up  ter 
somthin'.  We  found  that  sirtifikate,  an'  we  thut 
it  was  a  kunundrum.  We  wint  an'  seed  that 
preecher  in  Newtown  as  wuz  to  hav  sined  it.  He 
sed  it  wuz  a  fraud  all  the  way  threugh. 

"But  'kep  your  eys  brite,  an'  we'll  mak  it  so  hot 
fur  him,  he'll  jump  the  toun  more  rapid  then  eny 
nigger  iver  did  fur  stealin'  chickens.  We  Re- 
main, 

Your  Ruff  Bud  Tru  Frinds, 

THE  VANDAL  CLUB." 

This  curious  piece  of  composition  amused  and 
comforted  Bertha,  for  it  informed  her  that  the 
marriage  certificate  was  worthless  and  gave  her 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      205 

information  with  which  to  resist  this  villain's  dev- 
iltry. For  she  knew  that  the  Vandals  had  a  won- 
derful power  of  gaining  information,  as  well  as 
did  many  others  in  the  village,  and  some  of  them 
to  their  sorrow.  And  she  had  no  doubt  that,  be- 
fore long,  they  would  make  Shackle  "jump  the 
town,"  as  they  expressed  it,  much  quicker  than 
any  of  the  Vandals  ever  had  for  "depopulating 
a  hen  roost,"  as  Marshall  would  say. 

The  next  day  Bertha  sent  Shackle  a  note  re- 
questing another  interview,  for  she  felt  that  she 
had  an  advantage  over  him  by  the  knowledge  she 
had  gained  through  the  letter. 

He  quickly  responded  to  her  request,  and  met 
her  with  a  triumphant  smile  and  look  that  a  per- 
son's face  wears  when  he  thinks  he  has  everything 
his  own  way.  But  there  came  over  his  counten- 
ance a  shade  of  surprise  when  she  met  him  with 
a  calm,  easy  manner,  for  he  had  expected  to  find 
her  sorrowful  and  dejected,  while  on  the  con- 
trary, she  seemed  far  more  at  her  ease  than  at 
the  last  interview. 

"Is  she  going  to  yield?"  he  thought  triumphant- 
ly, "or  does  she  think  with  sweet,  honeyed  words 
to  deceive  me?  If  she  thinks  so.  she  is  much  mis- 
taken!;' 

"This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure,  Mrs.  Shackle," 
he  said,  "but  quite  wife-like." 

"My  name  is  not  Mrs.  Shackle,  as  you  know 
well  enough,  but  Bertha  Merton!" 

"This  means  fight,"  he  thought,  as  he  said,  "I 
beg  your  pardon,  but  it  is  in  law.  Would  you 
like  another  look  at  that  marriage  certificate  to 
convince  yourself?" 


206   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"No;  it  amounts  to  nothing.  It  is  a  miserable 
sham!" 

"How  do  you  know?"  he  asked  sarcastically. 

"I  have  positive  proof!" 

"From  whom?" 

"From  the  clergyman  whose  name  is  forged  to 
it" 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  he  cried  excitedly. 
"You  have  not  been  away  from  the  house?  You 
have  received  no  letters  nor  sent  any?" 

"Then  you  have  intercepted  my  letters?  By 
what  authority?" 

"I  am  your  guardian." 

"Does  that  give  you  such  right?" 

"Yes,  certainly." 

"I  don't  believe  it!" 

"I  can't  help  what  you  believe !" 

"And  does  the  law  give  you  a  right  to  keep  me 
a  prisoner?" 

"Yes,  when  it  is  for  your  good." 

"I  don't  believe  that  either." 

"I  can't  help  that,  but  it  is  a  fact,  as  you  al- 
ready see !" 

"But  it  is  unjust!" 

"Granted,"  he  said  sneeringly.  "But  how  do 
you  know  anything  about  this  certificate?  You 
acknowledge  by  your  own  words,  that  you  have 
not  been  away  from  the  house  nor  received  any 
letters.  How,  then,  do  you  know?" 

"That  may  be,  but  still  I  know!" 

"You  need  not  think  that  you  can  cajole  me 
with  your  stories,  madam!" 

"Perhaps  not.     But  I  learned  it  from  the  same 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      207 

source  that  informed  me  you  forged  a  check  on 
the  Bank  of  Dublin  and  ran  away!' 

His  face  grew,  perfectly  livid  with  rage,  while 
his  eyes  protruded  and  rolled  about,  and  his  body 
writhed  like  that  of  a  serpent,  as  he  yelled,  "It's 
an  infernal  lie!" 

She  started  from  her  seat  in  fear  lest  he  would 
strike  her,  in  his  wild  rage. 

In  a  few  moments  he  became  almost  calm 
again,  when  he  asked,  "Who  told  you  this — lie?" 

"If  it  is  a  falsehood,  what  made  it  affect  you 
.so?" 

"Righteous  indignation.  Because  it  is  a  lie ! 
But  who  has  been  imposing  on  your  credulity?" 

"I  should  think  there  was  no  need  to  tell  you. 
tYou  are  so  smart  you  ought  to  know!" 

"And  I  do.  It  was  some  of  those  hell-hound 
Vandals!  And  I'll  knock  the  life  out  of  them 
yet  if  they  don't  attend  to  their  own  affairs!" 

"I  would  advise  you  to  let  them  alone,"  she 
said  aggravatingly,  "some  of  them  are  muscular 
men,  and  you  might  get  the  worst  of  it." 

"But  still  I'll  teach  them,  as  well  as  you,  that  I 
am  not  to  be  played  with!" 

"But  it  would  not  be  law,"  she  said  aggravat- 
ingly, "to  kill  them.  Would  it?" 

He  glared  at  her  for  a  moment  and  then  said, 
savagely,  "That's  what  the  contemptible  curs  de- 
serve! But  I'll  have  every  one  of  them  in  jail 
before  they  are  a  day  older!  You  must  be  a 
nice  kind  of  a  lady  to  be  in  communication  with 
such  trash!  You  deserve  to  be  kept  a  prisoner 
to  keep  you  out  of  such  low  company.  No  one 


208   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

but  a  woman  of  the  town  would  speak  to,  or  even 
notice  them !" 

"They  are  far  more  respectable  than  you!" 
she  retorted  indignantly. 

"You  had  better  speak  more  carefully!"  he 
thundered,  "or — " 

"Or,  what?" 

TrNever  mind.  What  did  these  villains  tell 
you?" 

"Nothing  that  you  would  wish  to  hear." 

"But  what  other  lies?" 

"You  say  they  are  lies." 

"Never  mind,  I  wish  to  hear  them.1* 

"That  you  forged  a  check  on  the  Dublin  Bank." 

"You've  told  me  that!"  he  hissed  through  his 
teeth.  "But  what  more?" 

"That  you  murdered  one  of  the  London  police, 
and  threw  his  body  in  the  Thames  river!" 

He  could  subdue  his  passion  no  longer,  for  he 
sprang  to  his  feet,  perfectly  wild  with  rage,  and 
yelled  through  his  gnashing  teeth,  with  a  volley 
of  oaths,  "I'll  cut  yours  and  their  hearts  out!" 

She  sprang  from  the  chair  just  in  time  to  escape 
a  blow  from  his  fist  which  he  struck  in  his  blind 
madness,  and,  opening  the  door,  stood  ready  to 
escape  if  he  approached  her.  Though  she  feared 
him  no  scream  escaped  her  lips,  and  she  remained 
waiting  with  all  the  defiance  of  a  brave  nature, 
for  his  fit  of  passion  to  subside.  It  lasted  for 
nearly  a  minute,  and  was  fearful  to  witness,  then 
it  gave  way  to  an  uncontrollable  fear,  as  he  sank 
exhausted  into  a  chair,  trembling  from  head  to 
foot.  His  face  was  colorless  as  marble,  his 
eyes  protruded,  rolling  wildly  about,  his  fists  were 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      209 

so  tightly  clenched  that  the  nails  cut  the  flesh,  and 
his  body  was  contorted  and  froth  covered  his 
thin,  bloodless  lips,  as  he  muttered  slowly  to  him- 
self, "They  know  that !  They  know  that !" 

Gradually,  he  became  calm  again,  and  their 
eyes  met;  in  her  face  was  a  desperate  calmness 
that  spoke  volumes  of  determination  as  she  stood 
there  in  her  beautiful  paleness;  her  large, 
lustrous  eyes  appearing  even  blacker  in  contrast 
with  the  marble  whiteness  of  her  face,  while  one 
hand  was  still  grasping  the  knob  of  the  door. 
Though  his  countenance  was  still  very  white  with 
fear,  and  dread  pictured  upon  it,  there  was  an 
aspect  of  determination  there. 

They  looked  at  each  other  for  several  moments, 
then  he  spoke  in  a  calm  tone,  but  with  a  slight 
tremble  in  it. 

"You  see,  I  have  a  temper.  It  won't  do  to 
fool  with  me!  We  must  understand  each  other. 
The  sooner  the  better  for  you !" 

She  did  not  reply,  but  waited  in  silence  for  him 
to  speak  again. 

"I  should  like  you  for  a  wife — for  you're  a 
beauty — if  it  were  not  for  your  infernal  stub- 
bornness! But  there  is  another  thing,  I  must 
have,  I  will  have?" 

"What  is  that?" 

"Money.    I  must  have  it,  or  all  is  lost!" 

"I  have  but  little  to  give  you." 

"Sign  this,"  he  said  hastily,  drawing  a  parch- 
ment from  his  pocket,  "and  I  can  soon  convert  it 


into  com." 


"Give  me  my  freedom,  and  I  will  sign  it." 
"Sign  it  and  I  will  set  you  free." 


210   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Give  me  my  liberty,  and  then  I  will  sign  it. 
I  promise  you  on  my  word  of  honor." 

"I  would  not  take  an  angel's  word.  No,  that 
will  not  do!" 

uThen  I  will  not  put  my  name  to  it!" 

"Beware !  You  do  not  know  what  I  am  capable 
of  doing!  You  say  I  killed  a  London  policeman 
and  threw  his  body  into  the  river.  Take  care  that 
you  are  not  found  missing  some  morning,  and 
your  body  afterward  be  discovered  in  the  river! 

"I  will  give  you  until  to-morrow  to  sign  this 
paper.  And  then — !"  he  suddenly  ceased  speak- 
ing with  a  warning  look. 

"Good  day,"  he  said  after  a  pause,  then  arose 
and  left  the  room.  She  did  not  deign  a  reply, 
but  watched  him  out  of  sight  as  she  slowly  re- 
peated his  last  words: 

"  'And  then'— That  means  murder!" 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  FINAL  STRUGGLE. 

"Though  all  around  is  dark  and  cheerless, 

And  on  high  my  star  looks  pale, 
My  heart  is  steadfast  still  and  fearless, 
Still  my  lips  disdain  to  wail." 

When  Bertha  had  watched  Shackle  out  of  view 
she  threw  herself  into  a  chair  by  the  table,  and, 
resting  her  head  upon  her  arms,  fell  into  a  rapid 
train  of  reflections. 

"Yes,"  she  thought,  "I  will  escape  from  this 
man's  power,  to-night,  if  possible.  And  then 
away  to  the  battle  field!  Why  should  I  not  go? 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      211 

My  heart  is  ever  wandering  thitherward,  for  the 
dearest  and  best  friends  I  have  on  earth  are  there. 
And  then,  it  is  my  country,  too.  Even  I  can  do 
something  for  the  sick  and  wounded  men;  and 
that  would  be  all  the  reward  I  would  wish;  and 
I  am  sure  I  can  be  of  some  use.  Then  I  shall  be 
near  Charley  if  he  should  be  wounded  (the  last 
with  tenderness),  and  Dr.  Granville,  and  many 
more  of  the  friends  of  my  childhood.  I  shall  go, 
if  I  can  escape." 

She  went  down  to  supper,  but  having  no  ap- 
petite simply  took  a  cup  of  tea,  and  after  nerv- 
ously wandering  about  the  house  went  to  her  room 
to  think  on  plans  of  escape.  Until  ten  o'clock 
the  flashy-dressed  villain  would  be  on  guard,  and 
she  had  no  hope  of  effecting  an  escape  through 
him.  But  after  that  time  the  bullet-headed  guard 
would  take  the  watch,  and  she  hoped,  by  coaxing 
and,  perhaps,  bribing  him,  to  gain  her  ends. 

It  was  not  yet  eight  o'clock,  and  she  had  two 
hours  to  wait  before  attempting  escape.  She  drew 
a  chair  to  the  open  window,  and  sat  in  the  semi- 
darkness  watching  the  familiar  objects  of  her 
childhood  slowly  fade  away  in  the  gloom.  "How 
often  shall  I  think  of  them  when  far  away  near 
the  field  of  strife?  And  even  now  around  their 
shadowy  forms  cling  memories  of  many  happy 
days.  Thoughts  that  are  linked  by  an  invisible 
chain  of  many  precious  hours.  And  now  the  mist 
is  hiding  the  hilltops  where  many  a  happy  sum- 
mer's ^  day  I've  gathered  wild  roses  and  butter- 
cups till  the  sun  dipped  behind  the  western  waves. 
There  is  the  glen,  a  dark,  dim  spot  now,  with  its 
cool,  shady  nooks  and  bubbling  spring,  from 


212   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

which  I  so  often  drank  of  its  cool  waters.  And 
the  woods  along  the  river  are  fast  fading  into 
darkness.  How  well  I  know  each  brier-tangled 
path  through  them  to  the  river.  And  that  river 
— a  few  moments  ago  a  bright,  gleaming  line — is 
now  nearly  hidden.  Yonder  is  the  old  bridge 
nearly  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  mist;  how  many 
memories  cling  around  it.  It  was  there  I  first 
met  Charley  Landon.  What  sweet,  thoughtless 
days  those  were,  when  'life  seemed  bathed  in 
Hope's  romantic  hues.*  But  they  are  over,  and, 
perhaps,  I  shall  never  see  such  golden  days  again. 
Truly  'A  sorrow's  crown  of  sorrow  is  remember- 
ing happier  things.'  '  Soon  after,  even  the 
shadowy  forms  of  hills,  rivers  and  vales  were  en- 
veloped in  the  mist  that  rolled  in  from  the  bay, 
and  then  she  watched  the  lights  of  the  village 
burst  into  view  as,  almost  unconsciously,  she  re- 
peated the  familiar  lines,  feeling  all  their  depth 
of  meaning: 

'I  see  the  lights  of  the  village 

Gleam  through  the  rain  and  mist, 

And  a  feeling  of  sadness  comes  o'er  me 
That  my  soul  can  not  resist/ 

At  last  she  lit  a  lamp,  and  looked  at  her  watch. 
It  was  nine  o'clock.  uAn  hour  yet  to  wait,"  she 
thought,  "I  will  try  to  read."  She  took  a  book 
and  attempted  to  get  interested  in  its  contents; 
but  in  vain,  for  it  seemed  dull  and  monotonous. 
She  threw  it  aside  in  despair,  and  extinguishing 
the  light,  sat  down  by  the  window  again  to  watch 
the  lights  of  the  village.  Many  of  them  had 
now  been  extinguished.  At  last  the  town  clock 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      213 

struck  ten,  and  as  its  finishing  stroke  'died  away 
she  saw  the  last  light  in  the  village  disappear; 
but  she  sat  in  the  gloom  for  several  minutes 
longer,  then  she  arose,  braced  herself  for  a  deter- 
mined effort,  relighted  the  lamp  and  exclaimed, 
"Now  to  succeed  or — fail!" 

She  dressed  in  a  thick,  blue  robe  and  white  fur 
jacket,  fastened  a  pretty  scarlet  bow  at  her  bosom 
and  a  sash  around  her  waist;  then  she  brushed  out 
her  long  curls  and  hung  the  gold  locket  around 
her  neck.  After  finishing  her  toilet,  as  carefully 
as  if  she  were  going  to  meet  a  lover,  she  glanced 
in  the  mirror  and  knew  that  she  looked  ravish- 
ingly  beautiful.  She  went  forth  to  conquer. 
Bertha  entered  the  parlor,  and  placing  the  lamp 
on  a  table  sat  down  by  the  window,  first  throwing 
it  wide  open.  She  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  soon 
the  bullet-headed  guard  appeared. 

"Good  evening,"  she  said,  sweetly. 

"Good  evenin,  Miss,"  he  replied  with  a  silly 
smile,  but  with  a  look  of  admiration  on  his  face. 
This,  with  a  woman's  intuitiveness  Bertha  in- 
stantly recognized,  and  it  encouraged  her  as  she 
said  in  the  same  musical  tone: 

"I  was  lonesome  upstairs,  and  I  could  not 
sleep,  so  decided  to  come  down  and  talk  to  you 
a  while.  You  are  not  afraid  I  will  escape,  are 
you?" 

"No,   Miss." 

"It's  a  dark  night,  don't  you  get  lonesome 
sometimes?" 

"Yes,  Miss." 

"Mr.  Shackle  always  puts  you  on  guard  at 


214  THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

night,  why  do  you  not  change  with  the  other  man 
who  watches  during  the  day?'1 

"Shackle's  afraid  of  them  Vandals.  They're 
mad  at  him.  They  swears  they'll  come  some 
night  an'  clean  us  all  out.  But  I  ain't  afraid  of 
'em.  But  they'es  got  one  feller  as  is  a  good 
fighter.  It  was  him  as  put  this  eye  on  me.  That 
kid  glove  feller  as  is  here  day  times  wouldn't 
stand  no  chance  with  'em." 

"I  wish  they  would  drive  you  away,"  she 
thought,  but  said,  "Will  you  have  a  cigar?" 

"Thank'e,  Miss." 

She  went  to  a  bookcase,  where  there  was  a  box 
of  cigars  that  had  been  there  since  her  father's 
death,  and  set  it  on  the  window-sill.  He  opened 
it  and  taking  out  a  cigar,  asked: 

"You  don't  object  to  smoking?" 

"Oh,  no,  not  at  all." 

He  lit  the  cigar  and  stood  puffing  it  in  silence 
for  several  moments,  when  she  suddenly  said: 

"You're  a  villain!" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss,"  he  answered  in  a 
tone  more  of  excuse  than  resentment,  "bud " 

"Excuse  me,"  she  interrupted,  "I  mean  you  are 
a  man  of  the  world!  One  who  wishes  to  make 
money." 

"Yes,  Miss,"  he  replied,  not  fully  comprehend- 
ing her  meaning. 

"W^  how  much  does  Shackle  pay  you?" 

"Fifty  dollars  ef  it's  fur  two  weeks,  an'  a 
hundred  ef  fur  a  month." 

"Well,  I  will  give  you  a  hundred  dollars  if  you 
will  let  me  escape.  Shackle  has  not  a  shadow  of 
law  or  right  to  keep  me  here.  And  to-morrow 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      215 

he  says  he  will  murder  me,  and  throw  my  body 
into  the  river!" 

"I  wouldn't  let  him  do  that,  Miss." 

"Thank  you.  What  do  you  say  to  my  proposi- 
tion?" 

The  fellow  was  silent  for  several  moments, 
then  he  said: 

"Make  it  two  hundred,  an'  it's  a  go !" 

"I  will,"  she  replied,  "wait  until  I  get  my  hat 
and  satchel?" 

"All  right,"  he  answered. 

She  went  to  her  chamber,  put  on  her  hat  and 
taking  a  small  satchel,  in  which  she  had  placed  a 
few  articles  of  necessity  to  the  traveler,  imme- 
diately rejoined  the  guard  and  handed  him  the 
price  of  her  liberty. 

"Thank  you,  Miss,  I'll  make  Shackle  pay  me 
that  fifty  dollars,  too." 

"Do,"  she  said,  with  a  smile.  "Now  help  me 
out  of  the  window." 

"Put  out  the  light  first,  please,  or  some  one 
might  see  you." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  forgot  it." 

She  extinguished  the  light,  and  returning  to  the 
window  he  assisted  her  to  the  ground. 

"Do  ye  want  me  to  go  with  ye?" 

"No,  I'm  not  afraid.     Good-bye!" 

"Good-bye,  Miss." 

She  walked  rapidly  out  of  the  garden  and  along 
the  deserted  streets  of  the  village  until  she  reached 
a  livery  stable.  She  met  the  proprietor  at  the 
door,  just  as  he  was  leaving  for  the  night. 

"Why,  bless  me!  Miss  Merton,"  said  the  old 


216   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

man,  who  had  known  her  since  she  was  a  child, 
"what  takes  you  out  at  this  time  of  night?" 

"I  am  compelled  to  go  to  the  city.  Will  you 
take  me?" 

"Why,  certainly.1] 

On  reaching  the  city  she  directed  her  companion 
to  drive  to  a  hotel  where  she  had  often  been  be- 
fore, but  she  did  not  intend  to  remain  there,  for 
when  he  had  driven  away  she  walked  up  the  street 
to  another,  which  she  entered. 

"Now,"  she  thought,  "no  one  knows  me  here, 
and  Shackle  cannot  easily  trace  me." 

In  this  she  was  very  judicious,  for  before  clay- 
light  Shackle  had  learned  of  her  escape,  and  was 
in  hot  pursuit. 

Walking  up  to  the  desk  Bertha  wrote  a  fictitious 
name  on  the  register  (she  ought  to  be  forgiven 
for  it  under  the  circumstances),  and  requested  a 
bedroom,  at  the  same  time  inquiring  the  hour  of 
the  departure  of  the  first  train  for  Washington. 

"At  five  o'clock,"  replied  the  clerk. 

"Will  you  please  have  me  awakened  in  time  to 
catch  it?" 

"Yes,  Miss,"  he  replied. 

Bertha  slept  but  little  that  night,  and  was  up 
and  dressed  in  the  morning  before  the  servant 
rapped  on  her  chamber  door.  After  a  hearty 
breakfast  she  hired  a  cab,  and  was  driven  to  the 
station,  which  she  reached  a  half  hour  before  the 
train  was  due.  Minutes  seemed  like  hours.  She 
was  nervously  anxious  to  be  flying  from  Shackle. 

It  wanted  but  four  minutes  of  the  arrival  of  the 
train,  and  she  was  still  sitting  in  the  waiting  room 
looking  through  the  window  which  commanded  a 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      217 

view  of  the  platform,  when  suddenly  she  beheld 
Shackle  enter  the  station,  and  walk  rapidly  to- 
ward the  apartment,  with  anger  impressed  on 
every  feature. 

Her  heart  gave  a  wild  bound  of  fear  and  dis- 
appointment as  she  thought:  "All  my  efforts  at 
escape  are  lost!  I  am  in  his  power  again!"  But 
she  quickly  sprang  behind  the  door  just  as  he 
entered  the  room.  Passing  into  the  room,  he 
looked  carefully  around,  and  then  moved  on 
again  without  discovering  the  object  of  his  search. 
He  walked  the  platform  apparently  wild  with 
anger,  several  times  passing  the  door  behind 
which  Bertha  was  concealed,  and  each  time  her 
heart  beat  wildly  with  fear  lest  he  should  discover 
her. 

The  train  thundered  into  the  station,  but  she 
did  not  move  till  the  bell  from  the  locomotive 
gave  the  last  warning  peal,  when  she  sprang  from 
her  concealment  and  ran  for  the  nearest  car,  but 
before  she  reached  it  Shackle  caught  her  by  the 
shoulder ! 

She  gave  a  slight  scream  of  disappointment, 
and  attempted  to  tear  herself  away.  The  scream 
attracted  the  attention  of  several  persons,  one  of 
whom  said  angrily: 

"Ye  villain,  let  go  of  Miss  Merton!" 

Bertha  turned  in  surprise,  as  she  thought: 
"Have  I  found  a  friend  at  last,  when  I  so  sorely 
need  one?"  And  when  she  saw  Jim  Kelly's 
muscular  form  standing  near  her,  his  eyes  flash- 
ing fiercely,  she  knew  she  had  found  one. 

It  should  be  explained  how  Kelly  came  to  be 
there.  The  reader  will  remember  that  he  went 


218   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

away  as  a  soldier  in  the  regiment  that  left  St. 
Arlyle.  But  in  the  first  great  battle  at  Bull  Run 
he  was  wounded  and  taken  to  Washington,  from 
whence,  on  account  of  the  crowded  condition  of 
the  hospitals,  he  was  removed  to  this  city,  where, 
after  weeks  of  careful  nursing,  he  had  fully  re- 
covered, and  was  now  returning,  as  he  said,  to 
"fight  the  thing  out!" 

"Who  are  you?"  yelled  Shackle. 

"Niver  mind,"  replied  the  Pirate,  "bud  let  go 
of  her,  or  I'll  make  ye!  Ye  dirty  spalpeen!" 

"She's  my  ward!"  roared  Shackle,  wild  with 
rage.  "I'm  a  lawyer.  I  have  several  times  re- 
fused a  seat  upon  the  bench.  And  I  know  my 
rights!" 

"Well,"  retorted  Kelly,  "if  ye  have  siveral 
toimes  refused  a  sate  on  the  bench,  I'll  give  ye  a 
sate  on  the  flure!" 

And  he  struck  Shackle  a  blow  in  the  face  that 
caused  him  to  measure  his  length  on  the  platform. 

"That's  what  ye  git  fur  insultin'  a  lady!" 

Shackle  regained  his  feet  and  yelled  wildly: 
"This  is  outrageous !  Won't  some  one  arrest  the 
villain?" 

The  people  evidently  believed  that  a  lady  had 
been  insulted,  and  sided  with  Kelly,  for  they 
laughed  and  jeered  at  the  lawyer. 

"Then,"  cried  Shackle,  "I  must  arrest  him  my- 
self!" 

But  the  next  moment  he  wished  he  had  not 
attempted  it;  for  he  received  a  fearful  blow  that 
again  laid  him  at  full  length  on  the  platform. 

The  train  was  now  rapidly  moving  away  from 
the  station,  and  Kelly  had  all  he  could  do  to 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      219 

catch  the  steps  of  the  last  car,  as  he  called  back  to 
the  discomfited  Shackle : 

"Don't  niver  say  ye  refused  a  sate  on  the  flure, 
if  ye  did  on  the  bench!" 

Kelly  pressed  through  the  train  till  he  reached 
the  car  in  which  Bertha  was  seated. 

"Where  is  Shackle?"  she  asked  excitedly,  when 
Kelly  stood  by  her  side. 

"Faith,  an5  that  villain's  all  right.  He  would 
not  take  a  sate  on  the  bench,  so  I  gave  'im  one 
on  the  flure !" 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  smiling. 

"I'm  goin'  in  the  nixt  car,"  he  continued,  "wid 
the  byes,  where  I  belongs.  Bud  if  that  dirty 
spalpeen  troubles  ye,  jist  sind  me  word,  an1  I'll 
ilevate  him  over  the  moon." 

"Thank  you  kindly,"  she  said,  smiling,  as  the 
Pirate  walked  away. 

Shackle  went  back  to  St.  Arlyle,  and  swore 
vengeance  against  the  Vandals,  and  wanted  them 
all  arrested. 

But  the  Justice  of  the  Peace  would  not  issue 
warrants  for  the  entire  body. 

"For,"  said  he,  "if  we  arrest  them  all  the  devil 
will  be  to  pay!" 

Perhaps  he  was  afraid  of  their  vitriolic  tongues, 
or  it  may  have  been  as  the  election  was  soon  to 
take  place,  he  was  desirous  of  not  losing  their 
votes  and  influence. 

Anyhow,  Shackle  was  compelled  to  concentrate 
his  wrath  on  only  one  Vandal  at  a  time.  So  he 
had  Dick  Lex  arrested. 

They  found  Dick  Lex  intoxicated,  as  usual, 
and  put  him  in  jail.  The  Vandals  were  furious,^ 


220   THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

and  set  all  their  wits  and  ingenuity  to  work,  and 
soon  had  the  British  detectives  on  Shackle's  track, 
and,  as  they  predicted,  made  him  fly  from  the 
town. 

So  when  the  trial  was  called  there  was  no  one 
to  prosecute,  and  Lex  was  set  at  liberty,  while 
the  justice  was  profuse  in  his  apologies  and  ex- 
cuses for  the  latter's  arrest 

"Oh!  I  don't  blame  you,"  said  Lex,  in  his 
felicitous  way.  "It  was  a  fair  game  as  far  as 
you  were  concerned,  but  he  slipped  in  a  cold  deck 
on  us!  But,"  he  continued,  "I  have  dr.:nk  my 
last  drop  of  liquor !" 

And  after  years  proved  the  truth  of  his  words. 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  BULL  RUN,  OR  MANASSAS. 

Then  shook  the  hills  with  thunder  riven, 
Then  rushed  the  steeds  to  battle  driven, 

And  louder  than  the  bolts  of  heaven 
Far  flashed  the  red  artillery. 

— Campbell. 

It  was  a  calm,  beautiful  Sunday  morning,  on  the 
2 ist  of  June,  1 86 1 ;  the  sun  arose  in  all  its  splen- 
dor and  threw  its  bright  rays  down  on  the  glens, 
woods  and  clear,  bubbling  streams  of  the  Plain  of 
Manassas,  while  far  away  in  the  distance,  robed  in 
their  azure  hue,  stood  the  tall  summits  and  pin- 
nacles of  the  Blue  Ridge,  guarding,  like  sentinels, 
around  a  field  of  death! 

But  ere  long,  ever  and  anon,  the  calm  was 
broken  by  the  roar  of  artillery,  and  white  wreaths 
of  smoke  were  seen  ascending  from  the  cannon's 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      221 

mouth,  into  the  clear,  blue  sky  above  the  two  long, 
glittering  lines  of  the  contending  armies,  telling 
of  the  fearful  struggle  soon  to  begin ! 

It  was  the  battle  field  of  Bull  Run,  the  first 
great,  bloody  conflict  of  the  Civil  War.  Side  by 
side,  the  men  stood  in  the  long,  gleaming  lines 
of  battle,  waiting  for  the  orders  to  rush  forward 
into  the  vortex  of  death !  And  standing  there  in 
that  short  interval — with  thoughts  flashing  over 
their  minds  as  thick  as  waves  on  an  ocean  beach 
— ere  they  met  amid  the  awful  clash  of  arms, 
many  a  soldier's  thoughts  were  wandering  far 
away  to  Northern  and  Southern  cities  and  vil- 
lages, where  friends  and  loved  ones  were  answer- 
ing the  Sabbath  bells'  sweet  peal  of  love  and 
peace ;  and  many  a  soldier  in  his  imagination  could 
see  dearly  loved  ones  walking  up  the  old  familiar 
church  steps,  that  he  knew  so  well,  but  that,  per- 
haps, he  would  never  see  again;  for  before  that 
Sabbath  sunlight  faded  into  night  many  a  one 
would  be  called  to  "join  that  silent  number  in  the 
land  whence  none  return!" 

The  St.  Arlyle  regiment  arrived  on  the  field  the 
evening  before  the  battle,  and  had  been  assigned 
to  General  Hunter's  division,  one  of  the  first 
bodies  to  become  engaged  on  the  following  morn- 
ing. There  had  been  during  the  day  several 
severe  but  short  engagements  between  the  ad- 
vance skirmishers  of  the  two  armies,  but  they 
had  now  fallen  back  on  the  main  bodies,  and  all 
was  again  quiet.  But  it  was  but  the  lull  before  the 
great  struggle  on  the  morrow ! 

It  was  a  beautiful  night;  the  moon  was  full, 
and  shed  a  soft,  mellow  light  down  from  a  cloud- 


222    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

less  sky,  while  not  a  breath  of  wind  ruffled  the 
gleaming  surface  of  the  rippling  streams,  or 
rustled  the  leaves  of  the  surrounding  forest,  ar- 
rayed in  all  the  brightness  of  a  midsummer's  night, 
while  in  every  direction  thousands  of  camp  fires 
glared  forth,  throwing  weird,  fantastic  shadows 
against  the  thick  foliage  of  the  trees. 

Around  one  of  the  numerous  camp-fires  a  party 
of  Vandals  were  collected,  discussing  the  impend- 
ing battle. 

"Well,"  said  Ned  Stanton,  "we'll  have  a  lively 
time  to-morrow.  Some  of  us  will  have  to  do  a 
good  deal  of  dodging  to  save  our  skulls." 

"Yah,"  said  Blowhard  Jake,  "bud  by  Shim- 
many!  von't  ve  mak  dem  Rebil  runs!" 

"Look  out  they  don't  make  you  run,"  said  an- 
other Vandal. 

"Not  much  dey  von't  1" 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Gleaton,  "some 
of  you  fellows  will  want  to  go  home  mighty  bad 
when  the  Rebel  bullets  are  whistling  around  your 
ears;  and  then  fight  the  rest  of  the  war  with 
your  jaws,  in  the  tailor  shop." 

"Well,"  said  the  Pirate,  with  his  usual  non- 
chalance, "we'll  take  a  few  shots  at  'em  fhirst, 
ahnyhow,  just  to  kape  things  loively,  afore  we 
lave." 

Thus  the  conversation  ran  on,  for  most  of  them 
slept  but  little  that  night,  and  eagerly  they  re- 
sponded to  the  rolling  of  the  drums  ere  daylight 
broke  on  Sunday  morning.  Then  followed  a 
rapid  march,  until  they  could  see  the  enemy's 
forces  in  the  distance,  when  a  short  halt  was 
ordered.  Here  we  have  already  described  themx 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      223 

waiting  for  the  final  order  to  move  on  to  the 
attack. 

Between  the  two  armies  flowed  the  Bull  Run 
stream,  and  at  a  considerable  distance  from  it,  on 
the  summit  of  the  ridges,  gently  sloping  to  the 
plain,  were  posted  the  Confederate  forces,  nearly 
three  miles  in  length.  Almost  opposite  the 
enemy's  center  was  a  stone  bridge,  spanning  the 
stream,  which  was  guarded  by  a  Confederate 
regiment. 

It  was  planned  by  the  Federal  commander, 
General  McDowell,  that  a  feint  attack  should  be 
made  on  the  bridge  by  one  of  the  divisions,  while 
the  two  others,  of  Heintzieman  and  Hunter  (the 
latter  containing  the  St.  Arlyle  regiment),  were 
to  make  a  detour  through  the  thick  woods,  and 
fall  upon  the  enemy's  flank  and  rear. 

The  battle  began  a  few  minutes  after  six  o'clock 
by  the  discharge  of  a  shell  from  a  mortar  in  the 
direction  of  the  regiment  guarding  the  stone 
bridge.  Then  followed  a  rapid  cannonade  from 
both  sides,  but  the  Union  forces  did  not  advance 
to  drive  the  regiment  from  the  bridge,  but  re- 
mained firing  at  long  range,  as  their  desire  was  to 
attract  the  enemy's  attention,  while  the  two  divis- 
ions pushed  through  the  thick  forest. 

But  the  Confederates  were  on  the  alert,  and 
before  long  they  became  aware  that  a  large  body 
of  men  were  pressing  through  the  dense  forest  to- 
ward their  left  and  in  their  rear.  They  imme- 
diately wheeled  around  and  formed  a  new  and 
stronger  line — as  it  was  on  elevated  ground,  and 
partly  sheltered  by  the  houses,  barns,  sheds,  hay- 
stacks and  fences  of  a  farm  situated  there — and 


224    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

at  the  same  time  rapidly  reinforcing  the  line  to 
meet  the  attack  of  the  Federals. 

Meanwhile,  the  divisions  having  forded  the 
Bull  Run  stream,  and  filled  their  canteens  with 
water,  were  pressing  on  as  rapidly  through  the 
woods  as  the  tangled  vines  and  thick  undergrowth 
would  permit.  But  their  progress  was  so  re- 
tarded that  it  was  ten  o'clock  before  the  advance 
brigade  reached  the  open  field. 

Among  the  first  troops  to  reach  the  edge  of  the 
wood  was  Landon's  regiment,  and  as  they  came 
into  the  open  ground  they  were  received  with  a 
perfect  storm  of  cannon  balls  and  bullets  from  the 
enemy's  elevated  position.  The  severe  fire  for  a 
few  moments  made  the  raw  troops  recoil,  as  the 
dead  and  wounded  fell  around  them,  but  they 
were  pressed  forward  by  those  in  the  rear,  and 
were  soon  rushing  up  the  rising  ground,  sharply 
replying  to  the  enemy's  fire,  while  several  bat- 
teries or  artillery  had  emerged  from  the  wood  and 
were  firing  over  their  heads  with  telling  effect  on 
the  Confederates. 

"Bejabers!"  exclaimed  Kelly,  wildly,  "it's  ex- 
tramely  loively!  An'  thar  aint  mouch  fun  fightin' 
Ribils!" 

uNo,"  replied  his  comrade,  also  a  Vandal,  "I'd 
rather  be  back  in  the  tailor  shop." 

"Dunder  und  blitzen!'  yelled  Jake,  "dey 
mights  hit  somebodies  in  der  eye!' 

"Put  yer  eyes  in  yer  phocket!"  answered  the 
Pirate. 

"Shiver  me  timbers!"  cried  Sailor  Jack,  as  he 
glanced  down  the  line,  "ef  the  boys  ain't  fallin' 
overboard  lively!" 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      225 

They  were  now  in  the  hottest  part  of  the  battle, 
and  there  was  no  longer  any  time  for  words,  as 
they  pressed  rapidly  up  the  hillside,  firing  volley 
after  volley  at  the  Confederate  ranks,  while  bul- 
lets and  balls  went  plowing  through  their  own. 
Each  moment  fresh  companies  of  troops  emerged 
from  the  wood  and  rushed  up  the  gentle  slope,  till 
the  Confederate  commander,  Evans,  was  on  the 
point  of  falling  back,  when  he  was  reinforced  by 
General  Bee's  division.  The  National  forces 
were  now  sorely  pressed,  but  they  were  rapidly 
supported,  and  their  line  greatly  strengthened. 
The  buttle  now  raged  desperately,  the  air  was 
filled  with  bullets,  cannon  balls  and  shells;  the 
dead  and  wounded  lay  thick  on  the  field,  while  the 
roar  of  the  firearms  was  almost  deafening.  Al- 
though the  enemy,  from  his  elevated  position,  was 
doing  terrible  execution — especially  with  his  artil- 
lery— on  the  National  line,  the  rapid  reinforce- 
ment of  the  latter  was  slowly  pressing  his  lines 
back.  Just  at  this  time  the  Federals  were  again 
reinforced  by  Sherman's  brigade,  and  the  Con- 
federates could  resist  no  longer  and  began  a  re- 
treat. Over  the  ridge  and  down  the  southern 
slope  of  a  small  valley  the  Confederates  fled,  but 
in  good  order,  as  they  were  aided  in  the  retreat  by 
Hampton's  famous  legion,  which  had  just  arrived 
on  the  field.  Across  the  valley  they  rushed,  and 
up  a  gentle  slope  leading  to  a  large  plateau  above, 
closely  followed  by  their  pursuers. 

Cheers  broke  from  the  Federal  lines,  as  they 
considered  the  victory  complete,  and  the  com- 
manders were  already  congratulating  each  other, 


226    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

when  suddenly  an  incident  of  determination  and 
valor  occurred,  that  turned  the  tide  of  victory. 

As  the  flying  troops,  under  General  Bee, 
reached  the  brow  of  the  plateau  there  stood  a 
brigade  drawn  up  in  line  of  battle,  seemingly  as 
immovable  as  the  rocks  themselves,  waiting  for 
the  coming  struggle.  At  its  head  sat  a  com- 
mander whose  name  became  famous  on  many  a 
bloody  field  in  after  years.  It  was  Gen.  T.  J. 
Jackson. 

General  Bee  rode  up  to  the  tall  Virginian,  who 
sat  on  his  horse  with  a  face  like  marble,  and  ex- 
claimed, with  despair  imprinted  on  every  line  of 
his  face:  "General,  they  are  beating  us  back!" 

"Then,  sir,"  answered  Jackson,  calmly,  "we'll 
gave  them  the  bayonet!" 

The  words  sent  a  thrill  of  hope  through  the  dis- 
heartened Bee,  and  turning  to  his  men,  he  ex- 
claimed: "There  are  Jackson  and  his  Virginians 
standing  like  a  stone  wall!" 

And  ever  after  he  was  known  as  Stonewall 
Jackson. 

Although  the  Confederates  had  been  driven  up 
the  hill  to  the  plateau  above,  Jackson's  stubborn 
resistance  here  held  the  Federals  in  check,  while 
the  former  were  rapidly  reinforced  with  infantry 
and  artillery,  and  took  up  a  strong  position  on 
the  brow,  sheltered  by  the  thicket  of  pines.  Up 
these  hillsides,  against  this  strong  line,  the  Fed- 
erals hurled  brigade  after  brigade,  till  the  slopes 
were  black  with  men.  It  was  now  afternoon,  and 
the  heat  was  intense.  The  battle  raged  fiercely, 
the  roar  of  the  conflict  was  terrific,  as  the  cannons 
belched  forth  their  thunder,  mingled  with  the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      227 

crash  of  the  musketry,  the  heavy  tramp  of  the 
cavalry,  the  screams  and  groans  of  the  wounded, 
and  the  shrill  shriek  of  the  bursting  shell.  The 
air  was  thick  with  dust  and  smoke,  completely 
hiding  the  combatants  from  each  other,  as  if 
struggling  in  a  mist,  while  red  flashes  of  flame 
darted  high  into  the  aii>  above  the  pandemonium 
of  death  and  destruction.  The  Confederates 
were  inferior  in  numbers  to  the  attacking  forces, 
but  they  had  by  far  the  advantage,  in  their 
elevated  position,  and  the  cover  afforded  by  the 
pine  trees.  And  from  the  elevation  the  Con- 
federates poured  a  raking  artillery  fire  into  the 
advancing  masses.  But  on  the  National  soldiers 
came,  every  moment  pressing  the  enemy  harder. 
At  last  the  critical  moment  had  arrived.  The 
loss  had  been  severe  on  both  sides.  Though  the 
Federals  had  not  broken  the  enemy's  line,  the 
latter's  situation  had  now  become  desperate. 
Every  one  of  their  available  men  had  long  since 
been  hurried  to  the  heart  of  the  struggle,  while 
on  the  National  side  fresh  troops  were  already 
hurrying  to  the  front.  The  Confederate  Gen- 
erals, Bee  and  Baxter,  had  been  killed,  Jackson 
and  Hampton  wounded. 

"Oh,  for  a  brigade!"  cried  the  Confederate 
commander  to  a  staff  officer. 

At  this  period,  to  add  to  General  Beauregard's 
despair,  telegraphic  signals  warned  him  to  look 
out  for  a  body  of  troops  advancing  on  his  left. 

"At  this  moment,"  said  Gen.  Beauregard,  in 
mentioning  the  occurrence  afterward,  "I  must  con- 
fess my  heart  failed  me." 

It  was  a  strong  column  of  men,  and  at  their 


228     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

head  was  a  flag,  but  Beauregard  could  not  tell, 
even  through  a  strong  field  glass,  whether  it  was 
the  stars  and  bars  or  the  stars  and  stripes. 

A  look  of  despair  and  sadness  swept  over  the 
Confederate  General's  face,  as  he  turned  to  an 
officer  and  ordered  him  to  hasten  to  General 
Johnston  and  request  him  to  do  what  he- could  to 
support  and  protect  a  retreat. 

Again  Gen.  Beauregard  fixed  one  last  linger- 
ing gaze  through  his  field  glass  upon  the  advanc- 
ing flag,  but  he  could  not  distinguish  it,  as  it  hung 
limply  around  the  staff.  But,  just  as  he  was  lower- 
ing his  spy-glass,  a  gentle  breeze  sprang  up,  and 
slowly,  steadily,  the  banner  unfolded  and  floated 
full  out  on  the  warm  air.  It  was  the  stars  and 
bars!  Instantly  the  Confederate  General's  face 
lighted  up  with  triumph  and  pleasure,  as  he  cried 
exultantly  to  a  staff  officer: 

"Col.  Evans,  ride  forward  and  order  Gen. 
Kirby  Smith  to  hurry  up  his  command,  and  strike 
them  on  the  flank  and  rear!" 

The  advancing  troops,  under  Kirby  Smith,  were 
a  part  of  Johnston's  army  from  the  Shenandoah 
Valley,  that  had  eluded  the  Federal  General,  Pat- 
terson, who  was  to  have  held  them  in  check. 
They  were  moving  toward  Manassas  Junction  by 
railway,  when  Kirby  Smith,  hearing  the  heavy 
firing,  knew  that  a  great  battle  was  in  progress. 
So  he  stopped  the  engine  before  reaching  the 
Junction,  and,  forming  his  men,  pushed  forward 
to  the  struggle. 

The  fresh  command  struck  the  National  troops 
full  on  the  right  flank,  ere  they  could  form  a  new 
line.  For  a  few  moments  the  Union  right  fought 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      229 

desperately,  but  their  efforts  were  in  vain. 
Flanked  and  under  a  terrible  cross  fire,  they  were 
forced  to  fall  back,  slowly  at  first,  then  more 
rapidly.  As  the  Federals  saw  their  right  wing 
fall  back  in  confusion,  the  cry  rapidly  went  along 
the  line: 

''Here's  Johnston  from  the  Valley!  Here's 
Johnston  from  the  Valley!"  And  in  a  few 
minutes  the  entire  army  began  to  retreat,  and  then 
broke  into  a  wild  rout.  The  battle  was  lost. 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  RETREAT  FROM  THE  BATTLE   FIELD  OF 
MANASSAS. 

For  those  that  fly  may  fight  again, 
Which  he  can  never  do  that's  slain; 

Hence  timely  running's  no  mean  part 
Of  conduct  in  the  martial  art. 

— Butler. 

Among  the  few  regiments  that  retained  their 
order,  and  remained  firm  to  the  last,  was  the  St. 
Arlyle  one.  But  at  last,  far  out-numbered  by  the 
enemy,  and  each  moment  being  cut  through  by 
their  own  fugitive  infantry  and  artillery,  they  were 
forced  to  scatter  in  every  direction.  Gleaton's 
company  formed  a  part  of  the  extreme  left  of  the 
regiment,  and,  unlike  the  rest  of  the  command, 
was  unprotected  by  the  bushes  and  undergrowth; 
therefore  was  the  first  to  be  overrun  by  the  flying 
artillery  and  cavalry.  Helter  skelter  his  men 
fled  to  escape  the  wheels  of  the  cannons  and  the 
hoofs  of  the  horses.  Gleaton  soon  found  himself, 
to  use  his  own  expression,  uin  command  of  him- 


230    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

self  only."  He  ran  on  for  quite  a  distance,  till 
he  came  to  a  clump  of  bushes — where  another 
Vandal  had  already  taken  refuge — when  he 
sprang  behind  them.  But  ere  long  the  enemy's 
bullets  began  to  whistle  thick  around  their  heads, 
and  it  got  by  far  too  hot  to  be  comfortable,  as 
Gleaton  remarked  to  his  companion,  laughingly: 

"'As  custom  arbitrates,  whose  shifting  sway 
Our  lives  and  manners  must  alike  obey/ 
So  I  guess  we'd  better  run  away." 

But  Gleaton  was  a  little  too  late  in  this  move- 
ment, for  before  he  could  reach  the  open  ground 
he  was  captured  by  two  Confederates,  who,  seiz- 
ing him  by  each  arm,  led  him  rapidly  through  the 
thicket  toward  their  lines.  But  as  they  were 
emerging  from  the  undergrowth  with  their  pris- 
oner they  were  suddenly  met  by  a  flying  piece  of 
artillery,  which  knocked  one  of  the  Confederate!, 
down,  while  the  other  and  Gleaton  had  just  time 
to  spring  out  of  its  way.  Finding  himself  free, 
Gleaton  sprang  quickly  forward,  just  as  the 
muzzle  of  the  gun  was  passing,  and,  seizing  hold 
of  it,  with  a  strong  effort  swung  himself  up  on 
the  breech,  where  he  clung  desperately,  as  he 
yelled  at  the  discomfited  Confederate: 

"'Fare  thee  well!  yet  think  awhile 

On  one  whose  bosom  bleeds  to  doubt  thee !' " 

The  soldier  also  proved  to  be  a  wit,  for  he  re- 
plied in  the  words  of  Pope: 

"I  hold  sage  Homer's  rule  the  best, 
Welcome  the  coming,  speed  the  going  guest!" 

And,  by  way  of  emphasizing  his  words,  he 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      231 

fired  point  blank  at  Gleaton,  but,  luckily  for  the 
ex-blacksmith,  the  ball  went  wide  of  its  mark. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  Marshall.  When  his  men 
scattered  and  left  him  alone,  he  started  to  run 
rapidly  toward  the  rear,  when  he  was  halted  by 
the  enemy,  who  had  nearly  surrounded  him. 

"Surrender!"  shouted  one  of  the  Confederates, 
"you're  our  prisoner!" 

"Ah!  yes,  indeed;  I've  been  looking  for  some 
one  to  surrender  to,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  threw 
up  his  arms. 

But  at  the  same  time,  seeing  an  opening  in  the 
underbrush,  he  popped  into  it,  as  he  remarked  in 
his  usual  reckless  manner: 


"The  mouse  that  always  trusts  to  one  poor  hole 
Can  never  be  a  mouse  of  any  soul !" 

But  he  did  not  escape  without  a  volley  of  harm- 
less bullets  following  him.  At  least  they  were 
harmless  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  for  none 
of  them  struck  him.  He  ran  through  the  thicket, 
and  near  its  edge,  finding  a  disabled  baggage 
wagon,  he  cut  a  mule  loose  from  the  traces,  and 
mounting  him,  started  "to  leave  the  field,"  as  he 
afterward  said,  "as  a  cavalryman,"  but,  the  mule 
not  going  fast  enough,  he  struck  him,  when  the 
animal  suddenly  stopped,  and,  rearing  up  behind, 
the  ex-editor  shot  over  his  head,  or,  as  Marshall 
afterward  told  it  in  rhyme : 

"I  seized  and  mounted  a  black  artillery  mule, 

Made  up  my  mind  that  he  or  I  must  rule; 
But  as  I  raised  the  whip  o'er  his  left  ear, 
The  mule  raised  up  his  heels  and  shed  a  muleteer!" 


23 2     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

The  rest  of  the  way  the  ex-editor  pursued  on 
foot.  For,  as  he  remarked,  he  didn't  wish  to  ride 
mules,  as  he  "didn't  understand  their  nature."  Be- 
sides, he  didn't  like  the  "feeling"  way  the  animal 
had  of  "shedding  a  muleteer!"  "It  sort  of  an- 
nihilated, kind  of  Vandalized  a  fellow." 

Another  Vandal,  who  was  tardy  in  "beating"  a 
retreat,  was  Sailor  Jack.  And,  being  far  behind 
the  rest,  he  became  confused,  and  ran  in  the  wrong 
direction — toward  the  enemy's  lines.  As  he  sub- 
sequently expressed  it,  "he  got  befogged  and  went 
sailing  around  on  a  dead  reckoning." 

At  last  he  became  surrounded  by  the  Con- 
federates in  nearly  every  direction,  and  the  bul- 
lets whistling  around  his  head  as  thick  as  hail  on 
a  winter's  day. 

"Shiver  me  timbers!"  he  exclaimed,  "ef  there's 
much  chance  to  go  fore  or  aft.  So  I  guess  I'll 
take  a  starboard  tack,"  he  continued,  as  he  fled 
into  a  neighboring  wood. 

Of  all  the  Vandals,  only  one  was  severely 
wounded.  That  was  Jim  Kelly,  though  several 
others  received  slight  bruises,  though  not  bad 
enough  to  necessitate  their  entering  the  hospital. 
But  poor  Kelly  had  received  a  dangerous  gash  in 
the  side,  and  had  just  strength  enough  left  to 
crawl  behind  a  tree,  before  he  swooned  away 
from  the  loss  of  blood.  Here  he  was  found  the 
next  day,  and  carried  to  the  hospital  by  a  number 
of  Vandals  who  had  gone  out  in  search  of  him. 

"Be  jabers,  byes,"  said  he,  between  his  groans 
of  pain,  as  they  raised  him  on  the  stretcher,  "they 
kum  mighty  near  sinkin'  this  pirate.  They  put 
an  awful  big  howl  in  'er  side." 


(A  Village  Mystery  and 
Through  War  to  Peace) 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      233 

Of  the  remaining  Vandals,  Frank  Meredith 
and  Dave  Johnson  were  taken  prisoners,  or,  as 
Gleaton  remarked,  "the  Rebels  borrowed  them 
for  a  while." 

But  there  was  one  Vandal  the  "Rebels"  did  not 
"borrow"  or  shoot.  True,  he  did  not  give  them 
much  of  a  chance  to  do  either — that  was  Blow- 
hard  Jake.  Almost  at  the  first  fire  his  courage 
"oozed  out,"  so  to  speak,  and  he  took  French 
leave.  As  he  was  starting  toward  the  rear  one 
of  the  officers  ordered  him  back,  but  this  only  ac- 
celerated his  motion. 

"Never  mind  him,"  remarked  Marshall,  "he's 
only  going  off  to  catch  his  breath." 

But  it  took  Jake  a  long  while  to  "catch  his 
breath,"  for  he  did  not  stop  retreating  until  he  got 
back  to  St.  Arlyle,  and  he  never  returned,  for  he 
had  enough  of  war  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

"Dunder  und  blitzen!"  he  used  to  exclaim,  in 
speaking  of  the  battle  afterward,  "dem  Rebils 
mights  er  hit  er  feller  in  der  eye !" 

He  seemed  to  have  a  great  respect  for  his  eyes. 

As  Marshall  ran  onward,  after  being  so  uncere- 
moniously dismounted  from  the  mule,  he  overtook 
Gleaton,  who  was  also  journeying  along  on  foot, 
having  tumbled  off  his  seat  on  the  cannon. 

"Hello,  Captain  Marshall!"  exclaimed  the  lat- 
ter, emphasizing  the  word  "Captain,"  "why  don't 
you  rally  your  men,  and  make  a  brave  stand  and 
turn  the  tide  of  the  battle?" 

"Ah,"  replied  the  ex-editor, 

"My  tongue  within  my  lips  I  rein, 
For  who  talks  much  must  talk  in  vain." 


234    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"But  why  don't  you,  Captain  Gleaton?" 
UI  have  given  a  very  good  command,  and  I 
think  they'll  obey  it.  It's  found  in  Shakespeare, 
and  it  is:  'Sweep  on,  you  fat  and  greasy  citizens.' 
But  what  do  you  think  of  things  in  general,  Mar- 
shall?" 

"They  seem  to  be  mixed;  in  fact,  sort  of  an- 
nihilated, kind  of  Vandalized." 

At  this  moment  they  came  upon  a  mounted 
officer,  who  was  making  a  buncombe  speech  to  the 
flying  men,  urging  them  to  rally  and  drive  back 
the  enemy.  But  all  the  while  the  officer's  horse's 
head  was  turned  toward  the  rear,  and  the  warrior 
himself  was  every  few  seconds  casting  furtive 
glances  toward  the  enemy,  so  as  to  be  ready  to 
flee  at  a  moment's  notice  of  danger. 

"Fine  words;  I  wonder  where  he  stole  'em," 
exclaimed  Gleaton,  just  as  the  officer  rode  away 
at  full  speed  toward  the  rear  as  he  caught  sight  of 
Stewart's  Confederate  cavalry  in  the  far  distance. 
"That  fellow,"  said  Marshall,  as  he  watched 
him  disappear,  "has  mistaken  his  calling.  He  was 
,made  for  an  orator,  not  a  warrior." 

The  rout  had  now  turned  into  a  panic.  All 
kinds  of  encumbrances  had  been  thrown  away. 
The  field  was  strewn  with  muskets,  belts,  knap- 
sacks and  every  conceivable  kind  of  baggage  and 
article,  while  the  huge,  surging  mass,  without 
form  or  order,  rushed  on  to  Centerville,  and 
from  there  to  Washington.  In  this  huge,  chaotic 
crowd,  mingling  with  the  soldiers,  were  citizens, 
members  of  Congress,  governors  and  various 
other  state  officials  and  their  wives,  who  were  now 
all  fleeing  for  dear  life,  some  in  carriages,  others 


*  .      THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      235 

on  foot,  leaving  behind  them  elegant  lunches  and 
forgotten  speeches,  which  they  had  intended  to 
make  over  a  glorious  victory. 

As  Gleaton  and  Marshall  hurried  onward  they 
passed  a  group  of  soldiers  surrounding  a  large 
table  cloth,  on  which  was  spread  some  flown  Con- 
gressman's banquet  of  savory  dishes  and  bottles 
of  wine.  They  would  hardly  have  noticed  the 
cluster  of  men  had  they  not  heard  their 
names  called.  Looking  toward  the  impromptu 
banqueters,  they  saw  two  Vandals  seated  in  their 
midst,  helping  themselves  to  the  wine  and  other 
good  things,  perfectly  regardless  of  the  enemy's 
bullets. 

"Come  on,  Marshall!  Come,  Gleaton!"  they 
shouted.  "There's  a  mighty  good  spread-out 
here!  The  best  you  ever  saw  in  your  life!" 

"Look  out,"  answered  Gleaton,  "the  Rebels 
don't  borrow  you." 

"Oh,  confound  the  Rebels !  this  is  a  Vandal  lay- 
out!" 

But  they  were  shortly  afterward  interrupted  in 
their  revelry  by  their  Colonel,  Charlie  Landon, 
who  compelled  them  to  move  onward.  During 
the  battle  Charlie  had  set  his  men  a  brave  ex- 
ample, for  he  had  rushed  to  every  part  of  his  line, 
regardless  of  the  enemy's  fire,  whenever  he  saw 
the  men  heavily  pressed,  and  encouraged  them 
with  words  and  deeds.  And  when  the  retreat 
began  he  actively  engaged  himself  in  trying  to 
save  any  of  his  men  from  being  captured,  for  he 
was  among  the  last  to  leave  the  field. 

"Move  on,  boys!"  he  cried.  "Don't  let  the 
enemy  capture  you,  for  we'll  want  you  all  another 


236    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

day.  I  know  the  battle  is  lost,  and  there  is  no 
alternative  but  to  retreat.  But  we'll  whip  them 
the  next  time,  and  we  want  every  one  of  you  to 
help.  Fight  your  way  through  their  ranks.  Don't 
let  them  take  you  prisoners !" 

Charles  Landon  had  generously  given  his  horse 
to  one  of  his  wounded  men  to  ride,  and  had 
filled,  with  the  aid  of  others,  an  ambulance  with 
the  wounded  of  the  regiment,  when  a  mob  of 
wild,  excited  men  sprang  forward  to  jump  into 
the  wagon  upon  the  wounded.  Instantly  Charlie 
sprang  in  front  of  them  and  drew  his  sword. 

"Back!"  he  cried.  "Shame  on  you,  to  attempt 
to  impose  on  wounded  men  I" 

But  the  excited  crowd  still  pressed  forward. 
Then  the  brave  firmness  of  his  nature  showed  it- 
self—the ring  of  the  true  metal  in  the  man,  as  he 
exclaimed : 

"The  first  man  who  attempts  to  spring  into 
that  ambulance,  I'll  run  my  sword  through  him!" 

The  mass  halted,  for  the  calm  determination  of 
that  pale,  handsome  face  awed  them  even  if  it 
did  not  win  their  admiration,  and  then  they  sK 
fell  back,  and  the  wagon  proceeded  unmolested. 

Thus  ended  disastrously  to  the  National  cause 
the  first  important  battle  of  the  War.  On  both 
sides  there  had  been  some  skillful  movements, 
and  never,  perhaps,  in  the  world's  history  had  r.iw 
men  done  such  good  fighting.  Had  the  Con- 
federates pushed  forward  they  might  easily  have 
captured  Washington  City.  But  they  were  evi- 
dently afraid  of  risking  a  defeat,  for  they  had 
not  forgotten  that  they  had  been  beaten  back  in 
the  early  part  of  the  battle,  and  they  were  not 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      237 

sure  it  might  not  occur  again.  They  were  not 
aware  of  the  fact  that  when  an  army  is  com- 
pletely routed  it  falls  an  easy  prey  to  the  victors; 
besides,  they  had  not  yet  been  hardened  to  blood 
and  death.  For  there  is  no  thorough  school  of 
the  soldier,  except  by  months  of  experience  on  the 
field  of  strife — an  experience  they  gained  long  be- 
fore the  close  of  the  War.  But  so  also  had  their 
opponents. 

After  this  battle  came  a  quiet,  but  it  was  but 
the  lull  before  the  storm  of  the  most  bloody  and 
destructive  war  the  American  continent  had  ever 
yet  known,  and  during  its  progress  the  produc- 
tion of  as  fine  soldiers  and  martial  equipments  as 
the  world  had  ever  seen.  In  the  meantime  each 
side  began  raising  and  organizing  immense  armies 
of  men.  President  Lincoln's  first  call,  after  the 
battle,  was  for  a  half  a  million  of  men.  Gen. 
McDowell  was  removed  from  the  command  of 
the  army  around  Washington,  and  superseded  by 
Gen.  McClellan. 

Then  followed  the  difficult  task  of  organizing 
and  drilling  the  demoralized  mass.  General  Mc- 
Clellan proved  equal  to  the  exigency,  and  in  a 
few  months  had  succeeded  in  converting  these  raw 
men  into  a  finely  disciplined  army,  well  prepared 
for  the  bloody  work  in  store  for  it. 


238    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  SOLDIER'S  LAST  WATCH. 

"Oh!  once  was  felt  the  storm  of  war! 
It  had  an  earthquake's  roar; 
It  flashed  upon  the  mountain's  height, 
And  smoked  along  the  shore. 
It  thundered  in  the  dreaming  ear, 
And  up  the  farmer  sprang ; 
It  muttered  in  a  bold,  true  heart, 
And  a  warrior's  harness  rang." 

Nearly  a  year  had  flown  on  the  wings  of  Time 
since  the  Battle  of  Manassas.  Bertha  had  been 
a  nurse  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  nearly  seven 
months.  General  McClellan  had  made  his 
famous  Peninsula  campaign — those  seven  days  of 
continual  fighting — a  series  of  the  most  desperate 
and  bloody  battles  that  had  ever  yet  been  fought 
on  the  American  continent,  beginning  with  the 
field  at  Oak  Grove,  then  followed  each  successive 
day,  by  the  terrible  contests  of  Mechanicsville, 
Gain's  Mill,  Savage  Station,  White  Oak  Swamp, 
Glendale,  and  the  final  fierce  and  bloody  struggle 
at  Malvern  Hill,  and  now  the  army  had  fallen 
back,  and  was  lying  on  the  James  River. 

This  campaign,  one  of  the  most  memorable  in 
history,  on  account  of  its  severe  and  protracted 
fighting,  had  cost  the  Federal  Army,  in  sick, 
wounded  and  killed,  thousands  upon  thousands  of 
men.  The  multitude  of  hospitals  hastily  im- 
provised in  barns,  churches,  tents  and  every 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      239 

variety  of  building,  were  filled  to  overflowing, 
and  Bertha  and  the  many  other  noble  women 
found  plenty  of  work  for  their  willing  hands 
to  do. 

These  months  of  service  among  the  wounded 
were  fast  winning  for  Bertha  in  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  a  fame  almost  rivaling  that  of  Florence 
Nightingale  in  the  Crimea.  For  the  busy  months 
of  work  had  made  her  an  efficient  nurse,  by  teach- 
ing her  to  bravely  control  her  nerves  and  remain 
calm  while  assisting  to  dress  those  frightful 
wounds  which  soldiers  receive  in  warfare,  and 
also  how  to  make  and  administer  the  sedative  and 
cooling  potions  to  the  fever-parched  lips.  Once, 
only,  in  her  trying  service  did  she  faint.  It  was 
while  engaged  in  bandaging  a  severe  wound  in 
an  officer's  arm.  The  ligature  of  the  artery 
broke,  and  the  hot  blood  spurted  in  a  flood  over 
her  white  dress.  Her  head  grew  dizzy,  while  her 
heart  seemed  to  cease  beating,  and  she  would  have 
fallen  had  not  a  surgeon  caught  her  and  placed 
her  on  the  bed.  When  she  recovered,  which  she 
rapidly  did,  she  found  that  the  surgeon  had  lig- 
ated  the  artery  again,  and  was  bathing  her  face. 

"These  are  terrible  sights,  my  little  lady,n  said 
the  surgeon,  kindly,  when  she  had  opened  her  eyes 
again.  "I  am  afraid  they  will  prove  too  much 
for  you.'* 

"Oh,  no!"  she  replied,  "I  shall  try  and  be 
stronger  the  next  time." 

After  that,  when  serious  accidents  occurred 
(for  they  often  did),  she  pressed  her  thumb  upon 
the  artery,  thus  stopping  the  flow  of  blood,  and 
quietly  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  surgeon.  Thus 


240    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

when  she  found  she  could  be  truly  useful  to  the 
wounded,  she  threw  herself  with  her  whole  heart 
into  the  noble  work.  And  many  were  the  bless- 
ings showered  upon  the  beautiful  little  lady's  head 
by  the  suffering  men,  as  she  knelt  by  their  beds 
and  administered  to  their  wants,  ever  with  words 
of  kindness.  For  a  soldier  in  pain  can  fully  ap- 
preciate the  soft,  magic  touch  of  a  woman's  hand. 

Rough  and  bad  as  some  of  these  men  had  been, 
they  never  forgot  her  noble  kindness,  and  when 
many  of  them  were  again  able  to  leave  the  hos- 
pital, they  could  not  employ  words  enough  in 
which  to  praise  her  to  others.  And  afterwards, 
when  she  passed  groups  of  soldiers,  containing, 
perhaps,  but  a  single  one  who  had  ever  known  her 
gentle  care  (but  he  had  informed  the  rest),  every 
cap  was  raised,  their  boisterous  laughter  ceased, 
and  a  silence  fell  upon  them,  as  if  they  were  in 
the  presence  of  an  angel. 

It  is  no  idle  fancy  that  wins  this  respect  from 
men.  For  a  noble  woman  is  God's  sublimest 
work  on  earth.  The  brightest  and  richest  diadem 
beneath  the  blue  of  heaven.  Her  example  good 
men  love  to  follow,  and  even  evil  ones  learn  to 
admire.  Noble,  kind  and  true,  she  leaves  a 
record  through  the  flood  of  years  that  time  can 
never  efface.  She  has  planted  and  nourished  the 
blossoms  that  will  bloom  beyond  the  skies.  For 
there  is  a  power  in  a  good  woman's  magic  touch 
naught  else  can  win.  It  is  the  one  foretaste  of 
heaven  that  few  but  a  wounded  soldier  has  ever 
learned  to  feel,  as  she  kneels  by  his  side  amid  the 
conflict,  and  does  a  noble  work  of  mercy. 

Bertha,  during  all  these  months  in  the  army, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      241 

had  had  but  several  conversations  with  Charlie 
Landon,  for,  although  when  they  met  it  was  in  a 
very  friendly  way,  there  was  a  constraint  in  their 
manners  that  touched  a  tender  chord  in  their 
hearts — and  actually  made  the  interview  painful 
— as  it  became  impressed  upon  their  minds  that 
they  were  drifting  farther  and  farther  apart. 

But,  oh,  how  he  longed  at  each  meeting  to  place 
his  arm  about  her  and  tell  her  of  the  never-ceas- 
ing love  beating  in  his  heart,  as  he  called  him- 
self a  thousand  times  a  brute  for  his  treatment 
of  her  affections!  "But,  alas!"  he  thought,  "I 
have  crushed  the  last  spark  of  fondness  from  her 
heart  by  my  contemptible  actions!  And  I  will 
not  try  to  degrade  or  annoy  her  by  offering  a  love 
that  must  be  distasteful." 

So  that  powerful  control  of  his  nature  crushed 
down  every  impulse  of  his  heart,  and  he  met  her 
as  calmly  as  if  she  were  but  a  mere  chance  ac- 
quaintance. 

And  at  these  moments  in  her  bosom  what  a 
wealth  of  tenderness  lingered  for  the  man  she 
loved,  no  words  could  express.  But  these  many 
days  of  experience  with  danger,  death  and  care 
had  taught  her  well  the  lesson  of  self-control.  So 
when  chance  threw  them  together  her  little  hand 
touched  his  without  a  quiver,  while  the  beautiful, 
pale  face  showed  not  a  sign  of  the  strong  emo- 
tions that  were  struggling  in  the  little  heart. 

Of  course,  Bertha  found  life  in  the  army 
fraught  with  many  hardships  and  trials,  but  there 
was  a  consolation  for  all  its  inconveniences,  in 
being  surrounded  by  so  many  friends  of  her  youth. 
Though  she  met  Charlie  but  seldom,  she  saw  him 


242    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

often,  and  that  was  a  pleasure  that  always  had  a 
lingering,  inexpressible  sweetness  about  it.  Then, 
too,  her  true,  noble  friend,  Dr.  Granville,  was 
nearly  always  near,  ever  ready  to  assist  and  en- 
courage her.  And  then  there  were  the  other 
young  men  from  St.  Arlyle,  not  that  she  had 
known  them  much  in  former  years,  but  they  were 
from  her  native  village,  around  which  sweet  mem- 
ories still  clung.  And  then,  too,  in  the  past  year, 
they  had  been  so  linked  in  her  fortunes  and  mis- 
fortunes, that  almost  unconsciously  a  strong 
friendship  had  grown  up  between  the  little  lady 
and  them.  For  it  is  said,  and  truly,  indeed,  that 
kindred  works,  or  trials,  make  kindred  friend- 
ships, too.  And  they  on  their  part,  were  always 
ready  to  add  to  her  comfort  or  pleasure  by  bring- 
ing her  flowers,  fruits  or  other  gifts,  often  fraught 
with  great  difficulty  to  obtain,  in  that  war-swept 
country.  Thus,  surrounded  by  so  many  well- 
wishers,  gradually  came  a  home-like  feeling  in 
her  heart.  For  there  is  nothing  that  constitutes 
home  so  truly  as  to  be  near  friends  and  those 
dear  ones  we  love  the  best. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  7th  of  July,  but  a 
week  after  the  last  battle  at  Malvern  Hill;  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  was  still  encamped  on  the 
James  River,  and  in  the  homes  in  every  part  of 
the  Republic  were  still  fresh  the  memories  of  the 
dead,  as  mothers,  wives,  sisters  and  sweethearts 
were  sadly  treasuring  up  the  last  mementoes  of 
the  loved  ones,  sleeping  forever  in  unmarked  sol- 
diers' graves  in  old  Virginia ! 

The  night  set  in  bright  and  clear,  but  ere  long 
a  fog  began  drifting  in  from  the  bay,  each  hour 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      243 

growing  denser,  till  it  enveloped  the  two  armies 
like  a  mantle,  and  hid  from  the  Federal  forces 
their  long  picket  line,  nearly  two  miles  distant. 

At  the  extremity  of  the  line,  where  it  touched 
the  river,  James  Kelly  was  standing  guard  in  the 
silent  gloom — silent  and  gloomy  indeed,  except 
for  the  occasional  report  and  flash  of  a  musket 
from  his  own  line  or  that  of  the  enemy,  for  the 
outposts  of  the  contending  armies  were  so  near 
together  that  they  could  hear  the  challenges  of 
each  others'  officers  as  they  went  their  rounds. 

It  was  just  eight  o'clock  when  Kelly  took  his 
place  on  duty,  relieving  the  former  sentinel.  The 
mist  had  already  begun  to  rapidly  envelope  the 
field,  and  as  he  stood  at  his  post  and  watched  wist- 
fully, almost  sadly,  the  last  gleam  of  the  distant 
camp  fires  fade  away  in  the  gathering  gloom — 
shutting  him  in  on  his  lonely  vigil — there  came  a 
presentiment  over  the  young  soldier's  heart  that 
the  old  life  had  faded,  too;  for  an  indescribable 
something  seemed  to  tell  him  that  it  was  his  last 
watch  on  earth.  But,  in  spite  of  his  fears,  not  a 
thought  of  deserting  his  post  of  duty  ever  crossed 
the  brave  young  fellow's  breast. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  relief  came,  but  he  gave  no 
answer  to  the  challenge,  so  another  sentinel  was 
placed  on  his  post.  Again,  at  midnight,  the  guard 
was  changed,  but  there  were  no  signs  of  the  young 
soldier.  He  was  hidden  from  view  in  the  mist. 
Once  more  the  night  wore  on.  At  last,  when  day- 
light broke,  and  the  warm  beams  of  the  sun  had 
melted  away  the  mist,  they  found  the  brave  young 
fellow  lying  at  his  post!  A  deep,  crimson  stain 
on  the  rough,  blue  coat,  just  above  his  heart,  told 


244     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

the  sad  story  that  he  was  "off  duty"  forever!  His 
eyes  were  gently  closed,  as  if  in  sleep,  while  on  the 
cold  lips  was  even  impressed  a  smile,  telling  that 
his  death  had  been  sudden  and  painless.  The 
pale  face  was  wet  with  dew,  as  if,  for  fulfilling 
his  duty,  Heaven  had  thrown  down  its  cold  kiss 
of  approval  there! 

His  comrades  raised  his  body  gently,  and  as 
they  bore  it  away  their  weather-roughened  faces 
softened  and  their  eyes  grew  moist.  Even  the 
enemy's  pickets,  who  were  separated  from  them 
by  but  a  narrow  cornfield,  dropped  the  butts  of 
their  muskets  on  the  ground  and  waited  in  re- 
spectful silence  till  the  dead  soldier  was  borne 
from  the  field.  Such  was  often  the  kindness 
shown  on  both  sides  for  the  dead  and  wounded. 
Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  that  the  war  was  scarcely 
over  before  these  same  men  who  had  crossed  arms 
in  deadly  conflict  began  to  bridge  over  the  bloody 
chasm,  by  forgiving  and  forgetting,  till  it  seemed 
that  the  Republic  was  growing  stronger  in  the 
union  of  hearts  than  ever? 

Just  before  sunset  that  day  all  that  was  mortal 
of  James  Kelly  was  brought  in  a  rough  pine  coffin 
to  its  last  resting  place — a  grave  dug  under  a 
willow,  near  the  river.  Bertha  had  twined  a 
wreath  of  white  roses  and  geraniums — which  she 
had  gathered  at  a  neighboring  farm  house — and 
placed  it  on  his  breast,  as  a  tribute  of  her  friend- 
ship. Around  the  coffin  were  gathered  the  men 
from  St.  Arlyle — the  friends  of  bygone  years. 
They  removed  the  lid,  and  as  each  was  taking  a 
last  lingering  look,  Bertha  knelt  down  and  sev- 
ered a  lock  of  his  brown  hair  and  pressed  the  cold 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      245 

lips  that  could  never  more  know  or  feel  a  kiss — 
unless  spirits  can  come  back  again  from  that  land 
beyond  the  skies. 

Bertha  arose,  and  as  the  tears  stole  down  her 
cheeks,  said: 

"Poor  fellow!  he's  had  a  rugged  life!  But  he's 
at  last  at  rest!  Let  us  hope  on  heaven's  bright 
shore !  He  once  did  me  a  noble  favor,  and  I  shall 
always  retain  a  warm  place  in  my  heart  for  his 
memory!" 

"Yes,"  said  Charlie  Landon,  "he  was  as  much 
a  hero  as  the  greatest  general  in  the  army,  for  he 
gave  all  he  could  give  for  his  country — his  life !" 

The  chaplain  then  read  the  short  burial  service, 
and  when  it  was  ended  the  escort  fired  three  vol- 
leys over  the  grave  and  quickly  strong  arms  hid 
him  from  mortal  view.  And  the  friends  of  by- 
gone years  turned  sorrowfully  back  to  camp,  as 
they  felt  that  a  link  was  missing  in  the  silver  chain 
of  friendship;  endeared  by  the  association  of 
years,  till  it  almost  twined  with  the  golden  chain 
of  love! 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE   OLD    ENEMY  AGAIN. 

An  open  foe  may  be  a  curse, 

But  a  pretended  friend  is  worse. — Gay. 

Late  one  afternoon,  a  few  days  after  the  great 
Battle  of  Antietam,  while  Bertha  was  busily  en- 
gaged in  attending  the  wounded  in  one  of  the  large 
hospital  tents,  where  they  had  been  crowded,  a 
letter  was  handed  to  her.  After  dressing  the  sol- 


246    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

dier's  arm  she  was  attending,  she  took  the  letter 
and  examined  the  directions.  They  were  written 
in  bold,  round  letters,  and  addressed  to  "Miss 
Bertha  Merton."  Hastily  taking  the  note  out  of 
the  envelope,  for  it  was  not  sealed,  she  read  as 
follows : 

"Miss  MERTON:  A  very  dear  friend  is  lying 
dangerously  wounded,  perhaps  dying.  Will  you 
come?"  *  *  * 

Then  followed  a  description  by  which  she  could 
find  the  place.  It  was  a  small  cottage  situated 
nearly  three  miles  away,  and  fully  a  mile  beyond 
the  Federal  outposts,  and  nearly  six  miles  from 
one  of  the  enemy's  main  bodies,  which  lay  en- 
camped across  the  Potomac  River. 

As  she  read  the  epistle  her  heart  gave  a  wild 
throb  of  fear  and  pain,  and  it  was  all  she  could 
do  to  choke  back  the  tears  as  she  thought:  "Is 
it  dear,  kind  May  who  is  wounded  and  dying? 
Oh,  what  a  cruel  thing  is  war!  It  has  not  even 
spared  dear,  innocent  May!"  And  then,  in  spite 
of  all  her  control,  she  burst  into  tears. 

"Yes,  I  will  go  to  her  instantly."  So,  seizing 
her  hat  and  cloak,  she  started  to  leave  the  hos- 
pital, when  suddenly  she  remembered  that  she  had 
an  engagement  with  Marshall  to  visit  one  of  the 
young  men  from  St.  Arlyle,  who  was  lying 
wounded  in  another  tent.  So  she  sealed  the  letter, 
and,  handing  it  to  a  surgeon,  requested  him  to 
give  it  to  Major  Marshall  when  he  called,  saying 
that  it  would  explain  itself.  Also  requesting  the 
doctor  to  tell  Marshall  that  she  would  immedi- 


[THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      247 

ately  visit  the  sick  soldier  on  her  return,  she  hast- 
ened away. 

When  she  started  the  last  beams  of  day  were 
fast  fading,  and  ere  she  reached  the  outposts  of 
the  army  it  was  quite  dark.  But  she  kept  on  in 
the  right  direction,  for  she  was  too  well  acquainted 
with  the  neighboring  country  to  lose  her  way. 
When  she  reached  the  Federal  pickets  there  was  a 
soldier  on  guard  whom  she  knew,  and  he  allowed 
her  to  pass  without  any  questions.  Leaving  the 
Union  lines,  she  walked  rapidly,  yet  cautiously, 
toward  the  enemy.  When  within  a  couple  of  hun- 
dred yards  of  the  cottage,  she  suddenly  came 
upon  an  advanced  post  of  Confederates — evident- 
ly a  reconnoitering  party  which  had  crossed  the 
river — consisting  of  three  men,  one  of  whom 
cried: 

"Halt!    Who  goes  there ?" 

But  before  she  could  reply  one  of  his  comrades 
said: 

"It's  a  lady.  One  of  the  officer's  wives,  I  guess. 
Let  her  pass." 

Years  after,  when  the  war  was  over,  she 
learned  that  the  soldier  who  had  spoken  last  was 
a  Vandal  who  had  left  St.  Arlyle  and  joined  the 
Confederate  army.  He  had  instantly  recognized 
her,  and  had  made  up  his  mind  that  she  should 
pass  unmolested. 

The  direction  in  the  letter  had  been  so  plain 
that  she  easily  found  the  house.  Crossing  the 
small  garden  in  front  of  it,  she  stood  knocking 
at  the  door  before  a  thought  of  fear  or  of  her 
strange  situation  crossed  her  mind.  For  her  brain 
was  so  excited  by  emotion  that,  though  her  long 


248     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

wallc  had  almost  exhausted  her  strength,  she  was 
scarcely  aware  of  it. 

On  knocking  at  the  door  a  muffled  voice  within 
cried:  "Come  in." 

Pushing  open  the  door,  she  entered.  The 
apartment  was  almost  in  darkness,  except  for  a 
lamp  burning  dimly.  Her  first  thoughts  were  of 
May,  as  she  walked  to  a  bed  in  one  corner  and 
drew  back  the  covering.  It  was  unoccupied.  At 
that  instant  the  lamp  was  turned  up,  flooding  the 
room  with  light,  and  the  next  moment  a  hand  was 
laid  on  her  shoulder.  She  started,  and,  looking 
up,  saw  the  face  of  John  Shackle! 

Her  heart  gave  a  wild  bound  of  terror,  and  her 
pale  face  grew  even  whiter  as  she  felt  she  was 
again  in  this  villain's  power! 

"Well,  we've  met  again!"  he  said,  trium- 
phantly, while  a  sardonic  grin  curled  his  flabby 
lips. 

"So  I  see,"  she  said,  calmly,  rapidly  regaining 
her  self-possession. 

"You  take  it  very  coolly,"  he  exclaimed  sarcas- 
tically. 

But  he  immediately  recognized  that  she  was  no 
longer  the  innocent  though  clever  girl  of  a  few 
months  before;  but  a  woman,  whom  experience 
with  the  world  had  rendered  wiser  and  more  dis- 
cerning, though  it  had  robbed  her  of  none  of  the 
noble  sweetness  of  her  nature. 

"What  else  could  I  do?"  she  asked,  demurely. 

"You  are  not  as  innocent  as  you  pretend  to  be," 
he  replied  mockingly. 

"Perhaps  not;  but,  as  I  said  before,  what  am 
I  to  do?  Cry?" 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      249 

"No,"  he  said  sharply,  "it  wouldn't  do  you 
any  good  if  you  did." 

"No,  of  course  not.  But  why  cannot  we  be 
friends?" 

"Are  you  sincere?" 

"Why  should  I  not  be?  You  have  never  in- 
jured me." 

"No,  not  that  I  remember.  But  are  you  willing 
to  aid  me?" 

"Yes,  if  your  requests  are  reasonable." 

"But  who  is  to  be  the  judge  of  that?  You 
or  I?" 

"Both  of  us,  I  suppose,"  she  replied,  smiling. 

"Yes,  it  takes  two  to  make  a  bargain. 

"Then  state  your  proposition." 

"Not  quite  yet,  my  lady.  You  think  you're 
sharp,  don't  you?  But  I'm  a  lawyer,  and  I  know 
what's  what." 

"No,  I  don't  think  I'm  a  match  for  you." 

"Oh,  you  don't?"  sarcastically. 

"No,  indeed,  Mr.  Shackle." 

"I  supposed  you  did,"  he  said  sneeringly. 

"But  I  do  not." 

"You  escaped  from  me  nicely  last  time.  I  sup- 
pose you  think  you  can  do  it  again?" 

"I  don't  see  much  of  a  chance,"  she  said,  laugh- 
ing. 

"Neither  do  I.     I've  got  you  in  my  power  this 


time." 


"Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  she  replied,  looking  fur- 
tively toward  the  door. 

He  saw  her  glances,  as  he  said  triumphantly: 
"You  needn't  look  at  the  door.  I've  locked  it. 
Now,  why  don't  you  cry?" 


250    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Why  should  I?  You  are  not  my  enemy.  You 
never  did  me  an  injury." 

"Then  why  did  you  run  away  before?" 

"Because  I  was  younger  then,  and  knew  no 
better." 

"I  suppose  you  are  smarter  now,"  he  said 
sneeringly. 

"I  don't  know." 

"You  wouldn't  run  away  now,  because  you 
haven't  the  chance." 

"No,"  she  answered,  laughing. 

"No,  of  course  not,"  he  said,  as  involuntarily 
a  smile  crossed  his  lips.  "You  don't  do  anything 
you  can't." 

"No,  never,"  smiling. 

"I  suppose  you  thought  the  English  detectives 
had  me  safe  long  ago.  But  I  was  too  sharp  for 
them." 

"Yes,  I  see  you  were." 

A  look  of  pride  swept  over  his  face  at  her  an- 
swer, as  he  said: 

"Yes,  those  London  detectives  will  find  me  a 
match  for  them.  I've  thrown  them  entirely  off  the 
scent  this  time.  They  do  not  even  dream  that  I 
am  in  the  Confederate  States.  They  were  look- 
ing for  me  in  Canada,  the  last  time  I  heard  from 
them.  They  imagine  themselves  very  smart,  but 
I'll  show  them  a  trick  worth  two  of  their* !  I'll 
allure  them  here.  And  then,  you  know,  in  a  war- 
swept  country  like  this,  it  is  not  an  unusual  thing 
to  see  a  man  with  a  bullet  hole  through  his  head, 
or  a  bayonet  thrust  in  his  heart!  It  doesn't  even 
excite  comment.  I'll  soon  have  them  out  of  the 
way,  when  I  once  get  them  here.  It's  annoying, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      251 

to  say  the  least,  to  have  these  London  devils  dog- 
ging one  around.  But  I'll  give  them  more  than 
they  bargained  for!  But  there  is  one  thing  I  need 
to  accomplish  my  little  scheme — that  is  money. 
And  you  can  help  me  obtain  it.  You  must!'* 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  "but  as  you  are,  perhaps, 
well  aware,  I  have  none  with  me.  But  I  can  re- 
turn to  the  Federal  camp  and  undoubtedly  obtain 
it  for  you,"  she  continued  eagerly,  as  her  heart 
beat  exultingly  at  the  thought  of  escape. 

uNo  douDt  you  could,  if  you  would  do  so.  But 
if  you  were  once  to  get  back  to  the  Federal  lines 
you  would  forget  all  about  me.  Your  dear  little 
memory  would  be  very  short." 

"No,  I  will  surely  fulfill  my  promise  if  you 
will  let  me  go." 

"I  doubt  it." 

"I  will  swear  to  it?"  she  cried  desperately. 

"I  have  no  doubt.  But  I  don't  mean  to  trust 
you.  I  don't  intend  to  be  hoodwinked." 

"But  I  will  surely  fulfill  my  promise,"  she  cried, 
earnestly. 

"Words  are  cheap,  my  lady.  But  you  are  deal- 
ing with  too  sharp  a  man  to  so  easily  escape.  So 
don't  waste  your  breath." 

"Then  how  can  I  obtain  for  you  the  money?" 

"Easily  enough.  Sign  this  check  on  the  bank  in 
the  city  near  St.  Arlyle,  and  I  can  soon  obtain  the 
money." 

"I  am  not  aware  that  I  have  a  cent  in  that 
bank." 

"I  will  take  my  chances  on  that." 

"I  don't  think  the  bank  authorities  are  familiar 


252     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

with  my  signature,     For  if  I  have  any  money 

there  my  father  deposited  it." 

"I  will  attend  to  that.    Sign  this  check." 
"But,"  she  said,  "if  you  will  let  me  go  back  I 

will  certainly  obtain  the  money  for  you  if  it  lies  in 

my  power.     I  swear  it." 

"I  see  what  is  in  your  mind.    It  is  escape.     But 

it  is  no  use !    You  are  only  wasting  words.     Sign 

this  check.     For  I  inform  you,  most  emphatically, 

that  all  your  promises  and  protests  are  wasted  on 


me." 


"But  if  you  would " 

"Confound  it!"  he  interrupted  angrily,  "you  are 
only  wasting  words,  and  making  a  fool  of  your- 
self I  Sign  1 1  tell  you  sign!" 

"But  will  you  let  me  return,  if  I  sign  it?" 

"Yes"  he  said  gruffly. 

"Upon  your  honor?" 

"Of  course  I  will,  you  little  fool!"  he  exclaimed 
angrily.  "What  in  thunder  do  you  suppose  I 
would  want  with  you?" 

"Very  well,"  she  answered,  as  she  seated  her- 
self at  the  little  stand. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "don't  try  to  disguise  your 
handwriting,  or  I'll  make  you  write  it  over  again." 

"No,  I  will  not,"  she  said,  as  she  read  the  paper 
over.  Then,  adding  her  name  to  it,  she  arose, 
saying: 

"Now,  will  you  let  me  go?" 

"No,  I'm  not  through  with  you  yet.  Do  you 
suppose  I  am  such  an  idiot  as  to  allow  you  to  go 
and  have  the  payment  of  the  check  stopped?" 

"But  I  will  swear  to  heaven  that  I  will  not  do 
80,"  she  exclaimed,  excitedly. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       253 

"Bah!  no  more  of  your  promises.  Have  I  not 
told  you  often  enough  I  would  not  trust  you? 
You  are  only  wasting  your  breath  I" 

"But  you  promised  to  release  me." 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

"Then  you  told  a  falsehood." 

"That  don't  trouble  my  conscience  much.  I've 
told  many  a  lie  before." 

"But  what  am  I  to  do?  I  can't  stay  here,"  she 
cried  pathetically. 

"No,  of  course  not.  I  will  take  you  with  me 
to  the  Confederate  camp.  How  do  you  like  the 
proposition?" 

"I  don't  like  it,"  she  said  tremblingly. 

"I  supposed  you  wouldn't." 

"Are  you  an  officer  of  the  Confederate  army?" 
she  asked  suddenly. 

"No." 

"Then "  she  commenced,  but  suddenly 

stopped. 

"Then,"  he  said,  divining  her  question,  "what 
am  I  doing  in  it?  I  pretend  to  be  a  war  corre- 
spondent, but  that  is  a  mere  blind,  while  I  work 
out  a  scheme  of  mine.  My  name  is  now  Charles 
Thorne.  And  don't  you  forget  it.  So  you  don't 
like  the  proposition?" 

"No,"  she  said,  struggling  hard  to  keep  back 
her  temper,  fearing  his  violence. 

"Well,  there  is  a  way  to  avoid  it.  You  have 
requested  that  we  might  be  friends." 

"Yes,"  shortly. 

"And  I  have  nothing  against  you,  although 
your  stubbornness  came  near  getting  me  into  a 
serious  difficulty  once.  But  I  will  let  that  pass. 


254    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Of  course  you  are  aware  that  you  are  deucedly 
pretty,  in  spite  of  all  your  mulishness?" 

Instinctively  she  divined  his  meaning,  but  fear 
and  anger  kept  her  silent. 

"Well,  I  won't  be  hard  on  you,"  he  continued, 
after  waiting  several  moments  for  her  to  speak. 
"Now,  if  you  will  accept  my  proposition,  you  may 
go  back  to  the  Federal  camp.  It  is  that  you  will 
swear  before  heaven  that  you  will  marry  me  with- 


in a  year." 


"NEVER!"  she  cried,  the  whole  indignation  and 
scorn  of  her  nature  flashing  forth  in  her  face  and 
large,  black  eyes. 

"Then  I'll  RUIN  YOU!"  he  yelled,  as  a  de- 
moniacal expression  of  anger  swept  over  his  dis- 
torted face,  that  sent  a  thrill  of  terror  through 
her  heart. 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

A  NEMESIS  ON  HIS  TRACK. 

Time  at  last  sets  all  things  even; 

And  if  we  do  but  watch  the  hour, 

There  never  yet  was  human  power, 

Which  could  evade,  if  unforgiven, 

The  patient  search,  and  vigil  long, 

Of  him  who  treasures  up  a  wrong. — Byron. 

About  half  an  hour  after  Bertha  left  the  hos- 
pital tent  Marshall  entered  and  inquired  for  her. 
He  soon  found  the  surgeon  to  whom  she  had 
given  the  letter,  and  as  he  gave  it  to  Marshall  he 
remarked  that  Miss  Merton  had  said  that  it  would 
explain  all.  On  receiving  the  epistle,  Marshall 
walked  to  an  opening  in  the  tent,  and  hastily 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      255 

glanced  at  the  address  in  the  fast  waning  daylight. 
He  knew  the  handwriting  in  an  instant.  And  over 
his  face  came  an  expression  of  anger  and  determi- 
nation that  rapidly  became  mingled  with  sad- 
ness, as  the  writing  recalled  the  bitter  memories 
of  long  fled  years.  He  tore  open  the  envelope, 
and  without  relaxing  a  muscle  of  his  rigidly  drawn 
face,  read  the  epistle  through,  then  there  escaped 
between  his  set  teeth  but  a  single  word: 

"Entrapped!" 

Turning  on  his  heel  he  walked  back  to  the  sur- 
geon, and  asked: 

"Doctor,  how  long  is  it  since  Miss  Merton 
left?" 

"Not  quite  half  an  hour." 

"Thank  heaven!  I'm  yet  in  time  to  save 
Bertha,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  as  he  strode 
away  toward  his  tent.  Reaching  it,  he  entered, 
and  taking  his  pistol  and  sword  from  a  table,  he 
attached  it  to  his  belt,  and  buckling  it  on,  walked 
to  the  entrance  way.  As  he  stood  leaning  against 
the  tent  pole  he  formed  a  fine  manly  picture  in 
the  evening  light,  his  thick,  black  wavy  hair  pushed 
back  from  the  broad,  white  brow  of  his  uncov- 
ered head,  and  his  tall,  full  figure  clad  in  a  dark 
blue  uniform  with  its  golden  buttons  across  his 
breast,  while  on  each  shoulder  gleamed  and 
danced  in  the  uncertain  light  the  golden  leaves 
of  a  major. 

Standing  there  in  the  dim,  shadowy  twilight, 
oblivious  to  the  noisy  hum,  and  the  thousands  of 
expiring  camp-fires  of  the  large  army — for  his 
thoughts  were  drifting  backward  to  dear  and  sad 
scenes  of  his  boyhood,  far  across  the  dark,  blue 


256    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

waves — there  came  over  his  face  a  tender  sad- 
ness, that  illuminated  it  with  a  nobleness  that  al- 
most rendered  it  handsome,  were  it  not  for  the 
traces  of  dissipation  there. 

But  gradually  the  sadness  of  his  face  melted 
away — like  snow  on  a  volcano's  peak  from  the 
internal  fire — and  over  it  came  a  look  of  determi- 
nation, mingled  with  anger,  as  he  thought: 

"So  you've  crossed  my  path  again,  James 
Sneaker — or  John  Shackle,  as  you  call  yourself 
now!  I  think  I  would  have  known  your  hand- 
writing— for  it  seems  engraven  on  my  heart  in 
letters  of  fire — had  you  attempted  to  disguise  it, 
or  were  my  eyes  grown  dim  with  years.  Your 
cruel  deed  started  me  on  the  downward  path, 
twenty  long  years  ago !  And  you,  alone,  are  re- 
sponsible for  the  dissipated  life  I've  led!  You 
allured  my  only  sister  on  to  ruin,  as  fair  and  noble 
a  girl  as  ever  placed  her  heart  and  hand  in  a  vil- 
lain's care!  You  betrayed  her  and  left  her  alone 
to  face  a  cold  and  heartless  world!  She  felt  her 
disgrace  bitterly,  to  her  very  heart's  core,  and 
saw  but  one  escape  from  her  shame — in  death! 
So  she  took  the  cup  of  poison  and  drank  it  to  the 
dregs !  And  to-night  she  sleeps  peacefully  in  her 
tomb!  And  when  her  spirit  is  wafted  beyond  the 
sky,  I  think  the  God  of  all  will  not  judge  her  too 
harshly  for  her  only  sin ! 

"But,  Shackle,  I  do  not  envy  you  your  con- 
science, or  your  reckoning  with  your  Creator, 
when  your  wicked  course  is  run !  You  had  me 
thrown  into  prison  when  I  tried  to  avenge  the 
dearest  and  sweetest  of  sisters — I  can  see  her 
now,  in  my  wild  imagination,  and  again  stroke 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      257 

her  dark  brown,  wavy  hair,  and  watch  her  liquid 
black  eyes  look  trustingly  up  to  mine !  Yes,  my 
darling  Nelly,  I  can  see  your  sweet  face  gazing 
up  from  the  grave  for  vengeance !  And  here,  to- 
night, amid  the  clash  of  war,  between  the  contend- 
ing armies,  where  there  is  no  perverted  justice 
or  judge,  we  shall  meet,  and  then  I  shall  show 
you  as  little  mercy  as  you  showed  to  her! 

"You  think  to  have  another  victim  in  Bertha 
Merton,  but  retribution  is  close  on  your  track! 
I'll  cleave  your  wicked  body,  or  else  my  right 
hand  has  lost  its  cunning  and  my  steel  will  re- 
fuse to  cut!  Yes,  I'll  thwart  your  devilish  pur- 
pose, or  leave  another  victim  for  you  to  gloat 
over! 

"But  I  must  to  action,  and,  ere  the  day  dawns, 
settle  the  old  score  with  you !" 

With  these  last  thoughts  he  entered  the  tent 
again,  and  putting  on  a  large  black  overcoat, 
which  he  buttoned  across  his  breast  to  conceal 
his  uniform,  he  strode  out  and  walked  rapidly 
through  the  camp.  Reaching  and  passing  the 
Union  pickets  without  difficulty,  he  moved  rap- 
idly, yet  watchfully,  toward  the  cottage.  When 
within  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  it  he  suddenly 
came  upon  four  Confederates  kneeling  on  the 
ground  in  a  group.  They  had  been  making  a 
reconnaissance  in  front  of  the  Federal  lines,  and 
had  now  fallen  back  to  a  more  safe  distance,  out 
of  the  range  of  the  pickets'  rifles. 

Marshall,  as  he  approached  them,  assumed  a 
bold  demeanor,  as  if  he  were  one  of  their  officers, 
and  cried  commandingly: 

"Halt!    Who  goes  there?" 


258    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

They  made  no  reply  at  first,  and  seemed  in- 
clined to  retreat,  but  after  a  hurried  conference 
one  of  them  answered: 

"Friends!" 

"Advance,  friends,  and  give  the  countersign!" 

"Stonewall  Jackson  I"  replied  one  of  the  sol- 
diers. 

"All  right,'*  said  Marshall,  as  he  passed  on- 
ward. 

A  few  minutes  after  Marshall  reached  the  cot- 
tage garden  and,  pushing  open  the  little  gate, 

walked  up  to  the  door. 

******* 

As  Shackle  yelled  the  words,  "I'll  ruin  you!" 
he  sprang  forward  and  seized  Bertha  savagely  by 
the  shoulder.  When  she  felt  his  grasp  all  hope 
died  within  her  heart,  and  a  feeling  of  horror 
seized  her.  Almost  at  that  instant  a  muscular 
shoulder  was  thrown  against  the  door,  the  lock 
bursted  from  its  fastenings,  and  as  the  door  swung 
open,  Marshall  sprang  into  the  room! 

"Back,  villain!"  he  cried.    Back  I" 

As  he  spoke  he  threw,  off  his  overcoat — which 
he  had  previously  unbuttoned — while  his  hand, 
almost  involuntarily,  grasped  his  sword. 

"Save  me!"  cried  Bertha,  rushing  to  him  for 
protection. 

He  laid  his  hand  gently  on  her  shoulder,  as  he 
said  calmly,  in  a  low  tone: 

"You  are  free,  my  little  lady!  I'll  attend  to 
the  scoundrel !  Now,  go  back  to  the  camp." 

"But  he  may  wound  you,"  she  said,  hesitat- 
ingly. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      259 

"No  danger  of  that;  I'm  too  good  a  swords- 
man for  him!" 

She  still  lingered,  and  he  continued,  "Go,  Miss 
Merton.  Go!  /'//  soon  settle  with  him!  I  want 
you  to  leave." 

"Very  well,"  she  answered,  and  left  the  room. 

Shackle  stood  glaring  at  Marshall  like  some 
wild  beast  at  bay,  his  face  convulsed  with  rage, 
while  his  eyes  seemed  balls  of  fire,  ready  to  start 
from  their  sockets !  For  some  moments  there  was 
a  death-like  silence,  then  Shackle  hissed  between 
his  tightly  clenched  teeth,  with  an  oath,  as  he 
grasped  his  sword  handle  almost  convulsively: 

"Marshall,  I'm  a  dangerous  man!  /'//  cut 
your  heart  out  if  you  don't  leave!" 

An  expression  of  the  strongest  contempt  and 
defiance  crossed  Marshall's  face,  mingled  with  a 
sneer,  as  he  said,  scornfully: 

"I've  courted  death  too  often  to  have  a  SINGLE 
fear  now!  My  God!  how  I  have  prayed  and 
waited  for  this!" 

At  Marshall's  words  there  swept  over  the  vil- 
lain's distorted  face  an  indescribable  expression 
of  fear,  while  his  hand  trembled.  And  as  he 
gazed  into  the  face  of  the  other,  and  saw  there 
a  calm,  cold  desperation — such  as  only  comes 
over  a  man  through  years  of  anger,  suffering  and 
disappointment — he  saw  but  one  chance  of  escape 
— that  of  killing  his  adversary. 

The  two  men  stood  watching  each  other  (like 
two  wild  beasts  of  prey  before  making  a  spring), 
for  a  few  seconds,  each  waiting  for  the  other  to 
commence  the  death  struggle,  then  Marshall  said 


260    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

in  a  calm,  icy  tone  that  rang  out  sharp  and  dis- 
tinct: 

"Are  you  ready?    Then  defend  yourself!" 

Instantly  their  swords  crossed  with  a  sharp, 
metallic  ring.  Almost  the  next  instant  Shackle 
disengaged  his  blade  and  made  a  thrust  in  carte, 
which,  though  Marshall  skillfully  parried,  just 
grazed  his  arm,  tearing  the  sleeve  of  his  coat. 

"Ah !"  thought  Marshall,  "he's  a  better  swords- 
man than  I  thought.  I  must  watch  him!" 

Then  their  blades  crossed  again,  and  for  nearly 
a  minute  the  clash  of  the  steel  rang  through  the 
apartment,  each  evidently  waiting  for  the  other  to 
make  a  thrust.  At  last  Shackle  grew  furious  with 
rage,  and  stepping  slightly  backward,  then  ad- 
vancing, made  a  quick,  vigorous  thrust,  which  the 
other  parried,  instantly  giving  a  counter  thrust, 
just  scratching  his  adversary's  arm  with  the  point 
of  the  blade. 

With  an  oath  of  rage,  Shackle  made  a  furious 
thrust  that  required  all  the  other's  skill  and  power 
to  parry. 

Once  more  their  swords  crossed,  and  for  fully 
a  minute  and  a  half  their  blades  clashed,  as  if 
in  sword-play.  Shackle's  face  was  distorted  with 
rage  and  fear,  and  his  arm  trembled,  while  the 
other's  countenance  was  calm  and  determined. 
One  would  have  thought,  to  have  glanced  at  it, 
that  he  was  but  playing  with  his  adversary.  As 
the  struggle  went  on  Shackle  grew  more  and  more 
furious,  for  the  very  calmness  of  his  opponent 
seemed  to  urge  on  his  passion. 

Finally  he  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  with  a 
wild  yell  of  rage,  like  a  madman,  he  made  a  pow- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       261 

erful  lunge  at  Marshall.  The  latter  was  fully  pre- 
pared, and,  stepping  backward,  easily  parried  the 
thrust,  and  then  springing  forward,  gave  a  quick 
one  in  return,  piercing  the  other's  shoulder.  From 
the  wound  the  hot  blood  flowed  freely,  as  with  a 
howl  more  of  uncontrollable  anger  than  pain, 
Shackle  leaped  backward,  knocking  over  the  lamp, 
and  plunging  the  room  in  darkness ! 

The  next  moment  Marshall  heard  the  crash  of 
a  breaking  window,  and  Shackle  had  sprung 
through  it,  carrying  with  him  sash  and  glass.  Im- 
mediately Marshall  started  to  follow,  but  as  he 
stepped  on  the  window-sill  he  heard  two  shots  in 
rapid  succession,  and  Shackle  fell  dead,  shot 
through  the  heart!  Springing  upon  the  ground, 
Marshall  gazed  in  the  direction  of  the  flashes, 
and  saw  two  men,  still  grasping  their  smoking 
pistols. 

In  answer  to  the  former's  inquiring  looks,  one 
of  the  men  raised  his  lantern,  and  unbuttoning 
his  coat,  showed  his  badge  of  authority,  as  he 
said: 

"We're  London  detectives.  He  was  a  bad  'un! 
A  dangerous  cove!" 

"Yes,  he  was,"  replied  Marshall.  "I've  been 
amusing  him,  myself,  inside,  but  it  got  too  hot  for 
him,  and  he  jumped  out.  But  it  seems,  from  ap- 
pearances, that  he  jumped  from  the  frying  pan 
into  the  fire!" 

"Yes,"  replied  one  of  the  detectives,  smiling 
grimly,  "we've  tracked  him  over  half  the 
continent,  but  we've  got  'im  at  last!  But  I  tell 
you!  he  was  a  sharp  'un!  Up  to  all  kinds  of 
tricks  and  deviltry!  He  got  away  from  us  many 


262     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

a  time  by  a  close  shave !  But  I  think  we've  made 
short  work  of  'im  this  time !" 

The  three  men  knelt  down  by  the  prostrate  vil- 
lain and  gazed  into  his  face.  It  was  horribly  dis- 
torted in  death,  with  hatred,  rage  and  fear  im- 
pressed upon  it.  And  as  used  to  death  as  these 
men  were,  they  started  back  in  horror  at  the  awful 
sight,  as  one  of  the  detectives  said  laconically: 

"He's  dead!" 

And  so  he  was,  and  Jeremiah  Marshall's  re- 
venge was  complete ! 

Entering  the  house  again,  Marshall  took  his 
overcoat  from  the  floor,  and  putting  it  on,  strode 
out  and  stood  looking  at  the  body. 

"We'll  take  care  of  him,"  said  one  of  the  de- 
tectives. "There's  a  big  reward  for  him  in  Lon- 
don, dead  or  alive!" 

"Very  well,"  replied  Marshall,  as  he  moved 
away  in  the  gloom  toward  the  Federal  camp. 

When  he  reached  the  Confederate  outpost  one 
of  the  soldiers  cried: 

"Halt!    Who  goes  there?" 

"A  friend." 

"Advance,  friend,  and  give  the  countersign!" 
cried  the  Confederate,  bringing  his  gun  to  a  ready. 

"Stonewall  Jackson!" 

"All  right.    Pass." 

Again  he  pressed  forward  till  stopped  by  a 
picket,  who  cried : 

"Halt!    Who  goes  there?" 

"A  friend." 

"Advance,  friend,  and  give  the  countersign  I" 

"It's  all  right,"  replied  Marshall. 

"No,  it  is  not!     I  have  orders  to  hold  you  till 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      263 

the  arrival  of  the  Corporal  of  the  Guard." 

"I  am  a  Federal  officer." 

"So  much  the  worse  for  you !  You  have  been 
communicating  with  the  enemy." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"You  have  been  watched,  and  seen  to  enter 
their  lines.  It  is  needless  to  talk  further,"  said 
the  soldier,  seeing  Marshall  hesitate,  "my  orders 
are  strict.  I  am  compelled  to  call  the  Corporal 
of  the  Guard." 

Then  he  called  out,  "Corporal  of  the  Guard, 
post  Number  Four!"  Then  from  post  to  post, 
along  the  line,  rang,  "Corporal  of  the  Guard,  post 
Number  Four!"  "Corporal  of  the  Guard,  post 
Number  Four!" 

The  Corporal  of  the  Guard  came  up  at  a 
double-quick,  with  his  gun  at  right-shoulder-shift, 
and,  as  he  halted,  he  said: 

"Well,  what's  up?" 

"Major  Marshall  has  returned." 

"Major,  I  must  arrest  you.  I  have  received 
orders  to  do  so,"  said  the  Corporal,  as  he  placed 
his  hand  on  Marshall's  shoulder.  And  without 
further  parley,  Marshall  was  a  prisoner  of  war! 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

JUST  IN  THE  NICK  OF  TIME. 

There's  a  divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough  hew  them  how  we  may. 

— Shakespeare. 

Around  a  long  pine  table,  in  a  large  tent,  were 
seated  thirteen  officers,  equal  or  superior  in  rank 


264    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

to  Major  Marshall,  constituting  a  general  court- 
martial,  that  was  to  try  the  charges  against  the 
latter,  that  of  "holding  correspondence  with,  and 
giving  intelligence  to  the  enemy."  These  were 
very  serious  charges,  for,  if  proven,  their  punish- 
ment, in  time  of  war,  was  by  death.  A  court- 
martial  during  hostilities  is  entirely  a  different 
body  in  its  action  from  one  in  time  of  peace. 
During  tranquility  a  trial  by  court-martial  may 
drag  along  for  weeks,  even  months,  before  arriv- 
ing at  a  decision,  but  when  the  army  is  in  active 
hostilities  its  action  is  usually  short  and  decisive. 
And  then  again,  the  punishments  meted  out  are 
very  different;  in  peace  the  penalties  rarely  exceed 
fine  or  imprisonment,  or,  in  the  case  of  an  officer, 
dismissal  from  the  service;  but  during  war  the 
punishment  is  frequently  by  death.  And  this  is 
necessarily  right,  for  a  soldier  or  officer  may  in 
tranquility  give  information  to  outsiders  that  may 
make  little  or  no  material  difference,  but  which, 
given  in  the  face  of  an  enemy,  may  thwart  a  gen- 
eral's plans,  cost  the  army  thousands  of  men,  or 
even  bring  upon  it  defeat  or  ruin. 

The  officers  of  the  court-martial  were  seated  at 
the  table  according  to  rank,  the  president  at  its 
head,  the  judge-advocate  opposite,  and  the  others 
on  the  right  and  left  of  the  former,  beginning  at 
the  head  of  the  table  with  the  highest  rank.  Mar- 
shall was  seated  at  the  right  hand  of  the  judge- 
advocate  (the  prisoner's  place),  while  the  wit- 
nesses were  standing  at  his  left. 

From  the  officers'  sober  faces,  and  their  con- 
strained, hesitating  manners — that  spoke  more 
than  words — one  could  plainly  observe  that  it  was 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       265 

an  uncongenial  duty  for  them.  And  it  is  nearly 
always  so,  for  in  the  army  there  springs  up  among 
the  soldiers  a  strong  friendship,  particularly  in 
each  regiment,  but  still  extending  through  the  en- 
tire army,  engendered  by  the  very  hardships, 
dangers  and  scenes  of  death  they  have  passed 
through  together.  But  in  Marshall's  case  it  was 
more  so,  for  he,  by  his  good-heartedness,  genial 
ways,  and  his  ready,  witty  remarks  and  answers, 
had  won  a  host  of  friends,  some  of  whom  were 
now  members  of  the  court-martial. 

The  court  being  called  to  order,  the  judge- 
advocate  read  the  order  for  its  assembling,  also 
the  charges  to  be  investigated,  then  followed  the 
question  whether  or  not  the  prisoner  wished  to 
challenge  any  member. 

"No,  I  do  not,"  replied  Marshall,  calmly,  "I 
am  perfectly  satisfied  with  every  officer  chosen." 

The  members  of  the  court  were  then  sworn, 
followed  by  the  reading  of  the  charges  to  the 
prisoner,  and  the  latter's  arraignment  by  the 
question: 

"Major  Marshall,  you  have  heard  the  charges 
preferred  against  you;  how  say  you — guilty  or 
not  guilty?" 

"Not  guilty,"  replied  Marshall,  and  the  trial 
began. 

There  were  three  principal  witnesses  against 
Marshall,  the  picket  who  had  arrested  him,  and 
two  police  guards. 

One  of  the  latter  was  the  first  sworn,  and  tes- 
tified that  he  had  had  his  attention  drawn  to 
Major  Marshall  by  seeing  him  pass  their  pickets 
and  move  directly  toward  the  enemy.  His  sus- 


266    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

picions  were  aroused,  so  he  followed  him,  first 
calling  another  guard  to  accompany  him.  "He  ap- 
proached," the  witness  continued,  "an  outpost — 
or  rather  scouting  party — of  the  enemy,  and  after 
a  short  parley  passed.  We  could  not  hear  the 
conversation,  as  we  were  too  far  away,  but  we 
supposed  he  gave  their  countersign,  for  the  Con- 
federates seemed  satisfied.  We  then  notified  the 
proper  authority  of  Marshall's  strange  action, 
who  ordered  the  pickets  to  arrest  him  if  he  re- 
turned. After  this  we  hid  in  the  darkness,  as 
near  the  Confederates  as  we  could  without  at- 
tracting their  attention.  After  about  three  quar- 
ters of  an  hour  Major  Marshall  returned,  and  as 
he  was  passing  the  enemy's  scouts  we  heard  one 
of  them  demand  the  countersign,  which  he  un- 
doubtedly gave,  for  one  of  them  replied,  'All 
right,  pass.'  ' 

The  other  police  guard  now  gave  his  testimony, 
corroborating  that  of  his  comrade. 

The  sentinel  then  gave  the  particulars  of  the 
arrest,  after  which  several  other  witnesses  were 
examined,  but  their  evidence  was  of  little  value. 

Then,  amid  an  almost  breathless  silence,  Mar- 
shall arose  and  briefly  stated  his  side  of  the  case. 
But  it  was  evident  from  his  careless  manner  and 
words  that  he  had  no  hopes  of  acquittal.  For 
from  the  moment  he  learned  that  he  had  been 
followed  and  watched  by  the  guards  he  yielded 
to  his  fate.  He  stated  that  his  reason  for  going 
to  the  cottage  beyond  the  Federal  lines  was  to 
rescue  a  lady  friend  from  a  scoundrel,  who  had 
decoyed  her  there  by  a  falsehood  about  a  pre- 
tended sick  friend.  He  further  said  that  he  had 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       267 

released  the  lady  and  become  engaged  in  a  duel 
with  swords  with  her  former  captor.  That  the 
latter,  becoming  hard  pressed,  had  sprung  from 
the  window,  but  before  he  could  escape  he  had 
been  mortally  wounded  by  two  English  detectives, 
who  were  searching  for  him  for  the  crime  of 
murder. 

"But  who  and  where  was  the  lady?"  the  judge- 
advocate  asked.  "She  would  be  an  important  wit- 
ness in  his  favor." 

This  question  he  refused  to  answer  unless  the 
court  would  guarantee  that  no  charges  should  be 
preferred  against  her.  But  this  it  did  not  have 
the  power  to  promise,  as  he  very  well  knew.  The 
judge-advocate  urged  and  entreated  him  to  re- 
veal the  lady's  name,  but  in  vain,  for  in  his  resolu- 
tion not  to  implicate  Bertha  he  remained  firm, 
nobly  declaring  that  if  he  must  suffer,  he  would 
not  bring  her  into  trouble. 

But  what  had  become  of  the  English  detectives  ? 
suggested  a  member.  They  would  be  excellent 
witnesses  in  his  favor. 

He  did  not  know  where  they  now  were,  but 
one  of  them  had  informed  him  that  they  were  go- 
ing to  New  York.  Concerning  them  he  spoke 
freely,  describing  them,  giving  their  names  and 
other  particulars.  But  this  information  was  of 
no  value,  for  no  one  knew  where  they  were  to  be 
found. 

At  last,  animated  by  the  warm  zeal  the  others 
had  manifested  in  his  favor,  Marshall  arose  and 
made  a  brilliant,  logical  argument  in  his  own  be- 
half. But,  taken  as  a  whole,  it  was  a  poor  de- 


268    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

fense,  and  no  one  knew  it  better  than  did  Mar- 
shall himself. 

Then  followed  the  finding  of  the  court,  but  we 
shall  not  go  into  details,  but  simply  say  that,  not- 
withstanding Marshall's  weak  defense,  there  were 
three  who  voted  uNot  guilty."  They  were  willing 
to  believe  his  simple  story — implausible  as  it  may 
have  seemed  to  the  others — without  asking  for 
further  proof.  But  the  other  ten  members  made 
the  necessary  two-third  vote  which  is  required  to 
determine  the  conviction  of  a  prisoner,  when,  as 
in  this  case,  the  law  absolutely  and  without  any 
discretion  in  the  court,  condemns  him  to  suffer 
death. 

As  the  guards  led  Marshall  away,  he  appeared 
by  far  the  most  calm  and  unconcerned  person 
present,  and  when  he  reached  the  open  air  and 
his  old  village  friends  plied  him  with  questions 
concerning  the  result,  he  replied  coolly,  and  with 
a  recklessness  so  characteristic  of  the  man  and  the 
life  of  danger  and  vicissitudes  he  had  led  for 
years: 

"Well,  boys,  they've  sort  of  annihilated,  kind 
of  Vandalized  me!" 

Marshall  was  placed  in  confinement  and  closely 
guarded  till  the  day  for  the  execution  arrived,  but 
five  days  after  his  sentence. 

It  was  a  warm,  clear  day,  toward  the  close  of 
September;  the  sky  formed  a  bright  blue  arch 
above — except  for  an  occasional  white  cloud  float- 
ing here  and  there — while  a  warm  breeze  swept 
gently  along  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  giving  as 
yet  no  signs  of  the  approaching  winter,  when  the 
somber  cortege  containing  Marshall  and  his  coffin 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       269 

in  an  ambulance,  surrounded  by  a  guard,  started 
for  the  place  chosen  for  the  execution,  about  half 
a  mile  from  the  camp.  Arriving  near  the  spot, 
Marshall  left  the  ambulance  and  walked  with  a 
firm  step  to  the  ground  selected.  Here  a  grave 
had  been  dug,  and  near  it  was  placed  the  coffin, 
while  Marshall  took  his  place  beside  it.  In  front 
of  him  stood  the  firing  party,  two  from  each  regi- 
ment, half  of  whom  were  held  in  reserve,  while 
outside  of  this  was  drawn  up — forming  three  sides 
of  a  hollow  square — the  long  gleaming  lines  of  an 
entire  division.  Near  Marshall's  right  stood  a 
small  group  of  men,  and  the  deep  shadow  of 
gloom  on  their  countenances  showed  that  they 
were  more  than  ordinary  observers.  They  were 
his  old  friends  from  St.  Arlyle.  A  few  minutes 
before,  each  had  shaken  hands  with  him  and  bade 
him  a  sad  farewell.  During  his  imprisonment 
they  had — led  by  Charles  Landon — made  every 
effort  in  their  power  to  effect  his  release,  but  in 
vain. 

On  every  face  in  that  huge  throng  there  was  a 
solemn,  sober  expression,  for,  although  amid  the 
shock  of  battle  a  soldier  may  see  a  comrade  fall 
dead  or  wounded,  and,  in  his  excitement  and 
eagerness  to  press  on  to  victory,  may  hardly 
notice  it,  yet  in  his  calm  moments  to  see  a  com- 
rade executed  in  cold  blood  savors  too  much  of 
the  feeling  that  it  is  murder. 

When  Marshall  had  taken  his  place  near  the 
open  grave,  the  provost  marshal  stepped  forward 
and  read  the  sentence.  His  voice  trembled,  while 
his  eyes  grew  moist,  for  he  and  Marshall  were 
old  friends!  When  he  finished  reading  he  ap- 


27o    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

preached  the  accused,  and  as  he  shook  hands  with 
him,  said  sadly  as  he  brushed  away  a  tear  with  his 
coat  sleeve: 

"Marshall,  old  friend,  this  is  a  hard  duty  for 
me  to  perform!  I  wish  to  heaven  there  was  a 
way  to  escape  it!" 

"Never  mind,  Ned,  old  fellow,"  said  Marshall, 
coolly,  uyou  can't  help  it.  So  don't  take  it  to 
heart  so." 

"I  wish  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,"  replied 
the  other,  "I  could  help  you!" 

"Yes,  I  know  you  would.  Thank  you,  Ned,  my 
dear  fellow,  and  don't  forget  the  message  for  my 
folks  across  the  sea.  Farewell!" 

"No,  I'll  not  forget  it!     Good-bye!" 

Then  the  usual  question  was  asked,  if  he  had 
anything  to  say  why  the  sentence  should  not  be 
executed. 

He  raised  his  head,  and,  turning  his  gaze  to- 
ward the  men,  said  in  a  calm,  clear  voice,  without 
the  tremble  of  a  muscle: 

"Fellow  soldiers,  I  wish  to  say  but  a  few  words 
to  you.  I  am  satisfied  with  the  decision,  for  I 
cannot  well  see  how  it  could  have  been  otherwise. 
For  events  have  transpired  to  seemingly  prove 
my  guilt,  till  it  looked  as  if  fate  had  willed  it  thus. 
But  through  all  my  life,  with  all  my  faults — and  I 
know  they  are  not  a  few — I  have  never  proved 
false  to  the  flag  I  swore  to  defend!  I  had  hoped 
that  if  ever  I  met  death  on  the  field  of  strife  it 
would  be  amid  the  shock  of  battle,  fighting  a  com- 
mon foe.  For  the  dearest  wish  of  my  heart  was 
that  when  all  was  over  with  me — to  have  the 
news  sent  over  to  my  dear  mother,  far  across  the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      271 

dark  blue  waves,  in  Erin's  Isle,  that  her  son  had 
proved  true  to  the  trust  reposed  in  him.  But 
it  has  been  willed  otherwise,  and  I  submit!  So, 
comrades,  with  my  friendship  to  you  all  and  with 
enmity  to  none,  I  bid  you  a  last  farewell!" 

For  several  moments  after  Marshall  ceased 
speaking  there  was  a  deathlike  silence,  and  amid 
it  the  officer  of  the  firing  party  stepped  forward 
and  drew  his  sword.  Every  eye  was  fixed  on  the 
prisoner,  as  with  throbbing  hearts  and  bated 
breaths  they  waited,  in  awful  silence,  expecting 
the  next  moment  to  see  him  fall,  riddled  with  bul- 
lets, as  the  officer  gave  the  command:  "Ready — 
Aim J\ 

At  that  instant  there  was  confusion  in  the  ranks 
of  the  division,  attracting  general  attention,  and 
the  next  moment  they  parted  and  a  horseman 
rode  rapidly  through  the  gap  and  bounded  in 
front  of  the  firing  squad!  As  he  reined  up  his 
horse  he  cried:  "Carry — Arms!" 

There  was  a  hesitation  of  several  moments,  as 
the  men  stood  spell-bound,  gazing  with  wonder 
at  the  officer,  who,  with  the  glittering  stars  of  a 
major-general,  had  so  suddenly  appeared  before 
them.  Then  on  many  a  lip  trembled  the  question : 
"Who  is  he?"  But  as  he  repeated  the  command 
in  a  clear,  ringing  voice,  there  was  an  indescrib- 
able magnetism  in  it,  as  they  recognized  the  man 
whose  presence  had  sent  a  thrill  through  them  on 
many  a  bloody  field.  It  was  General  George  B. 
McClellan! 

When  the  order  was  obeyed  the  General  said 
briefly:  "Evidence  has  been  received  which  en- 


272    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

tirely  exonerates  Major  Marshall.  He  will  there- 
fore report  to  his  regiment." 

Then,  turning  his  horse,  the  General  bounded 
away,  as  a  cheer  broke  from  the  firing  squad, 
which  he  gracefully  acknowledged  by  raising  his 
hat.  This  was  the  signal  for  a  general  burst  from 
the  division,  which  grew  into  a  perfect  storm  of 
cheers,  as  he  galloped  through  the  line.  These 
were  followed  by  storm  after  storm  of  huzzas, 
till  their  dashing  commander  rode  out  of  view. 

Meanwhile  Marshall  stood  bewildered  with 
joy,  like  one  in  a  dream,  till  the  men  broke  ranks 
and  crowded  around  him.  The  first  to  spring  to 
his  side  were  his  village  friends,  and  as  Charlie 
Landon  grasped  his  hand  he  exclaimed: 

"Thank  heaven  for  this!  All's  well  that  ends 
well!" 

"Yes,"  said  Marshall,  "God  moves  in  His  mys- 
terious way,  but  He  does  all  things  for  the  best!" 

Then  as  the  air  rang  with  cheers,  as  his  com- 
rades almost  caught  him  in  their  arms,  his  eyes 
for  the  first  time  grew  moist  with  emotion,  that 
fear  had  been  powerless  to  effect. 

The  explanation  of  Marshall's  rescue  is  soon 
told.  But  three  days  before  the  time  fixed  for  the 
execution,  Bertha  heard  of  it  for  the  first  time. 
Though  it  filled  her  breast  with  amazement  and 
grief,  it  did  not  overpower  her,  for  she  resolved 
to  save  him.  She  immediately  attempted  to  see 
the  commander-in-chief.  Although  several  times 
unsuccessful,  she  at  last,  by  her  womanly,  indom- 
itable perseverance,  succeeded  in  accomplishing 
what  his  other  friends  had  failed  to  do.  She  told 
her  story  so  simply  and  with  such  earnest  sorrow 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       273 

that  it  won  the  general's  favor.  But  she  was  not 
satisfied  till  she  had  obtained  the  evidence  of  the 
detectives,  who  were  now  in  New  York.  Then 
the  General  was  satisfied,  and  with  that  sense  of 
justice  so  characteristic  of  him,  immediately 
sprang  on  his  horse  and  rode  rapidly  for  the  place 
of  execution,  where  he  arrived  just  in  the  nick  of 
time. 

For  about  a  month  after  the  Battle  of  Antietam 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  lay  encamped  on  the 
field,  then  again  came  the  order  to  move  on  to  the 
Confederate  capital.  On  the  26th  of  October 
McClellan  began  to  advance,  and  almost  at  the 
same  time  the  Confederates  began  moving  to  the 
same  point.  It  was  a  grand  spectacle — this  race 
between  the  two  great  armies;  the  Union  forces 
on  the  east  side  of  the  Blue  Ridge  Mountains,  and 
the  Confederates  on  the  west,  each  making  every 
effort  to  reach  Richmond  first !  And  eagerly  the 
whole  country  watched  for  the  result. 

But  on  the  night  of  the  yth  of  November  oc- 
curred an  event  that  thwarted  all  McClellan's 
plans.  On  that  night,  amid  a  terrible  snowstorm, 
he  and  General  Burnside  were  seated  in  the  for- 
mer's tent,  when  General  Buckingham,  a  messen- 
ger from  the  War  Department,  arrived  and  placed 
in  McClellan's  hands  an  order  removing  him  from 
the  command  of  the  army,  and  appointing  Burn- 
side  in  his  place.  McClellan  read  the  order  with- 
out a  sign  of  emotion,  then  as  he  gave  it  to  his 
former  lieutenant  he  said  calmly:  "Burnside,  you 
command  the  army." 

General  McClellan  was  ordered  to  report  him- 
self at  Trenton,  in  New  Jersey,  so  he  immediately 


274    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

made  preparations  for  his  departure.  That  night 
he  issued  an  address  to  his  troops,  full  of  kind- 
ness and  regard.  And  the  next  day  he  visited  the 
various  camps  and  reviewed  the  officers  and  men 
for  the  last  time.  It  was  a  sad  day  for  the  army. 
For  never,  perhaps,  in  the  world's  history,  were 
men  more  attached  to  their  commander,  and  on 
their  leader's  part,  Caesar's  Gallic  legions  were 
not  dearer  to  him  nor  the  army  of  France  dearer 
to  Napoleon  than  was  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
to  McClellan.  For  he  had  formed  it,  and  watched 
it  with  strongest  pride,  as  it  grew  in  power  and 
perfection.  Then,  with  it  he  had  shared  its  tri- 
umphs and  its  defeats,  till  it  had  grown  to  be  the 
idol  of  his  heart. 

As  the  General,  with  his  staff,  rode  rapidly 
through  the  ranks,  gracefully  recognizing  and  bid- 
ding farewell  to  the  men,  uthe  cries  and  demon- 
strations of  the  men  (says  an  officer  who  was 
there)  were  beyond  all  bounds — wild,  impassion- 
ate  and  unrestrained.  Disregarding  all  military 
forms,  they  rushed  from  their  ranks  and  thronged 
around  him,  with  the  bitterest  complaints  against 
those  who  had  removed  from  command  their  be- 
loved leader." 

The  next  morning  McClellan  boarded  the  train 
for  Warrenton.  When  the  cars  reached  the  junc- 
tion— where  there  were  several  divisions  drawn 
up  in  line — a  salute  from  several  batteries  was 
fired.  Then,  as  the  men  caught  sight  of  their 
former  commander  on  the  platform,  the  wildest 
enthusiasm  prevailed.  The  cheers  and  cries  were 
almost  deafening,  as  the  men  actually  rushed  from 
the  ranks  and  crowded  around  the  General,  to 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       275 

catch  a  last  glimpse  of  him  and  hear  his  parting 
words.  Amid  a  lull  in  the  storm  of  cheers,  and 
just  as  the  train  was  starting,  he  stepped  to  the 
edge  of  the  platform  and  said: 

"Comrades,  I  wish  you  to  stand  by  General 
Burnside,  as  you  have  stood  by  me,  and  all  will  be 
well.  Good-bye." 

It  was  the  signal  for  a  wilder  burst  of  cheers 
than  ever,  which  continued  till  the  train  was  lost 
from  view. 

General  Burnside  fought  the  Battle  of  Fred- 
ericksburg,  in  which  the  Federal  forces  were  unr 
successful,  and  then  once  more  the  commander  of 
the  Army  of  the  Potomac  was  changed,  and 
General  Joseph  Hooker  became  its  chief. 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  CHANCELLORSVILLE. 

"The  sun  had  set : 
The  leaves  with  dew  were  wet; 
Down  fell  a  bloody  dusk 
On  the  woods  that  second  of  May, 
Where  Stonewall's  corps,  like  a  beast  of  prey, 
Tore  through,  with  angry  tusk." 

Serenely  was  drawing  to  a  close  a  lovely  after- 
noon on  the  second  of  May,  1863,  amid  the  green 
hills  and  vales  along  the  Rappahannock  River,  in 
old  Virginia.  The  sun  was  setting  in  all  his  fiery 
splendor  over  the  lofty  summits  of  the  far  away 
Blue  Ridge,  bathing  them  with  a  rosy  hue.  The 
sky  above  was  streaked  with  streamers  of  the 
vividest  crimson,  whose  edges  were  bordered  with 
waves  of  gold,  that  gently  faded  into  the  brightest 


276    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

blue.  Here  and  there  amid  the  sea  of  azure, 
rested  small  white  clouds,  with  just  the  faintest 
rosy  tinge,  like  fairy  sails  lying  at  anchor  on  some 
peaceful  ocean's  breast. 

Away  to  the  west  lay  the  broad  waters  of  the 
Potomac,  gleaming  in  the  fading  sunlight,  while 
spreading  southwestward  from  the  river  were 
rolling  hills  and  small  plains,  covered  with  the 
greenest  carpet  of  spring-time.  Between  precipi- 
tous bluffs,  several  miles  from  the  Potomac  and 
nearly  parallel  with  it,  ran  the  Rappahannock 
River.  On  the  south  bank  of  the  river  stood  the 
town  of  Fredericksburg,  while  back  of  it  arose 
Marye's  Heights,  rendered  famous  but  a  few 
months  before,  in  the  Battle  of  Fredericksburg, 
when  division  after  division  of  the  Federal  army 
had  been  hurled  again  and  again,  but  in  vain, 
against  the  blazing  stone  wall  near  its  crest.  And 
now  from  the  same  heights  gleamed  and  flashed 
in  the  evening  sunlight — as  if  bidding  defiance  to 
all  beneath — the  bright  cannons  of  the  Confed- 
erates. Forming  a  line  with,  and  extending  from 
each  side  of  the  height,  and  almost  hidden  in  the 
ravines  and  foliage,  had  lain,  the  day  before,  the 
army  of  General  Lee,  62,000  strong.  But  dur- 
ing the  previous  night  several  divisions  of  it  had 
marched  mysteriously  away.  Where  were  they 
now?  We  shall  soon  see — even  before  the  light 
of  this  day  fades  into  darkness ! 

A  few  miles  up  the  river  above  Fredericksburg 
was  the  large  forest  of  the  Wilderness;  and  in 
its  midst,  in  several  open  glens,  in  the  form  of  a 
huge  U,  with  its  limbs  pointing  toward  the  river, 
lay  the  Army  of  the  Potomac.  On  every  side  the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      277 

army  was  surrounded  by  the  trees  and  thick  under- 
growth of  the  woods,  the  only  modes  of  egress 
and  ingress  being  several  narrow  roads,  which 
were  guarded  by  artillery  and  infantry. 

There  had  been  skirmishing  with  the  enemy 
during  the  day,  but  the  men  were  now  resting. 
Their  arms  were  stacked,  and  the  soldiers  were 
engaged  in  cooking  their  evening  meal,  as  the  low 
hum  of  their  voices  sounded  over  the  field.  The 
sun  had  sunk  till  it  appeared  a  great  fiery  ball  in 
the  west.  The  last  beams  of  day  were  struggling 
amid  the  dark  foliage  of  the  forest,  while  out  of 
it  was  floating,  from  the  wild  flowers  and  sweet 
scented  climbers,  the  soft,  balmy  breath  of  May. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  commotion  in  the  forest 
on  the  right  of  the  army.  Large  numbers  of  birds 
were  frightened  from  the  trees  and  flew  with  a 
shrill  cry  over  the  field.  These  were  followed 
by  hundreds  of  deer,  hares,  rabbits  and  other 
game,  which  sprang  over  the  works  and  rushed 
in  wild  confusion  through  the  ranks.  "What  does 
it  mean?"  exclaimed  the  men.  But  the  next  mo- 
ment they  were  answered  by  the  blast  of  bugles 
and  a  heavy  burst  of  cheers  and  yells,  instantly 
followed  by  a  deadly  storm  of  bullets.  Then  they 
knew  that  the  woods  were  filled  with  armed  men, 
and  that  the  terrible  "Sonewall"  Jackson,  with 
20,000  men,  had  marched  around  the  army  and 
fallen  like  an  avalanche  upon  their  flank!  As 
large  numbers  of  the  unarmed  and  bewildered 
men  fell  dead  and  wounded  before  the  rain  of 
bullets,  the  assaulting  legions,  with  wild  yells, 
sprang  from  the  forest,  and  the  bloody  Battle  of 
Chancellorsville  had  begun. 


278    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

As  the  triumphant  Confederates  swept  over  the 
field,  pouring  volley  after  volley  upon  the  bewil- 
dered men,  the  wildest  confusion  prevailed,  as 
they  fled  in  every  direction,  not  even  waiting  long 
enough  to  pick  up  their  arms.  In  vain  did  their 
officers  rush  amid  the  shattered  columns  and  at- 
tempt to  rally  them !  It  was  a  rout,  not  even  ex- 
celled by  that  of  Bull  Run.  And  when  a  regi- 
ment did  halt  it  was  torn  to  pieces  by  the  merci- 
less fire  of  the  on-rushing  host.  At  last  Jackson's 
corps  reached  the  breastworks  near  the  Chancel- 
lorsville  House,  which  were  defended  by  a  brig- 
ade of  infantry,  and  here  a  desperate  resistance 
was  made,  but  it  lasted  only  for  a  short  time,  for 
the  victorious  Confederates  were  not  to  be 
stopped  as  with  a  fearful  yell  they  sprang  over 
the  works  and  crushed  the  brigade  with  their  su- 
perior numbers.  The  last  remnant  of  the  right 
wing  was  now  shattered,  and  fled  in  the  utmost 
disorder.  The  routed  troops  had  nearly  reached 
Hooker's  headquarters,  and  the  on-rush  of  the 
fugitives  had  almost  the  effect  of  an  invading 
army.  The  situation  had  grown  desperate. 
Something  must  be  done,  and  done  quickly,  or  the 
Army  is  lost.  A  new  line  of  battle  must  be 
formed,  so  Hooker  pushed  forward  fresh  troops, 
and  one  of  his  commanders,  Pleasanton,  arrives 
with  his  artillery  at  Hazel  Grove  just  as  the  de- 
moralized regiments  are  rushing  wildly  past. 
Close  behind  them  are  coming,  on  the  double- 
quick,  Jackson's  legions,  like  mighty  walls  of  steel 
— twenty  thousand  strong.  It  is  a  momentous 
and  critical  hour,  filled  with  the  fate  of  an  army. 
General  Pleasanton  instantly  recognizes  the  des- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      279 

f  j  perate  situation,  as  he  turns  to  a  Pennsylvania 
battalion /vtavalry,  which  has  just  arrived,  and 
cries  wildly: 

"Major,  you  must  charge  the  enemy!  Save  me 
ten  minutes  to  get  my  guns  ready.  Go,  Keenan!" 

And  the  brave  young  officer,  as  a  smile  flits 
over  his  face,  answers : 

"I  will." 

Keenan  knows  it  is  a  fearful  charge,  and  that 
he  and  his  brave  three  hundred  will  be  riding 
down  to  certain  death.  But  the  young  officer — 
in  peace  as  gentle  and  soft-hearted  as  a  girl — 
never  hesitates,  and  as  he  turns  his  horse  he  says, 
laughingly,  "Good-bye !"  Then  he  cries:  "Cav- 
alry, charge!"  The  next  instant  the  three  hun- 
dred gallant  troopers  are  riding  rapidly  upon  the 
twenty  thousand  foes !  It  is  an  awful  duty  before 
them,  but  not  one  of  them  shrinks  from  it.  On 
they  rush !  They  cut  through  the  enemy's  skirm- 
ishers like  a  tempest,  heedless  of  the  score  or 
more  saddles  that  are  emptied!  And  then  what 
an  awful  sight  appears  before  them!  Line  after 
line  of  Jackson's  legions  coming  at  the  double- 
quick,  while  amid  them  are  gleaming  in  the  moon- 
light thousands  upon  thousands  of  bristling  bay- 
onets !  But  the  brave  three  hundred  halt  not ! 
and  Keenan  flings  his  cap  high  into  the  air,  and 
shouts  wildly:  "Sabres!" 

Instantly  every  sabre  leaps  high  into  the  air, 
and  the  next  moment  the  three  hundred  horses  are 
spurred,  till  they  leap  right  into  the  wall  of  bay- 
onets! The  advancing  lines  are  shocked  and  re- 
tarded for  nearly  a  mile.  Then  a  desperate 
struggle  follows,  but  it  lasts  only  for  a  few  min- 


280    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

utes,  then  all  is  over!  And  the  gallant  three  hun- 
dred are  lying  weltering  in  their  blood,  on  the 
field  with  their  dead  commander.  But  ever 
around  their  deed  will  cling  a  heroic  lustre,  for  as 
nobly  did  they  fulfill  their  duty  as  in  that  by-gone 
cycle,  on  the  field  at  Thermopylae,  did  Leonidas 
and  his  brave  three  hundred  Spartans,  while  in 
defense  of  their  country,  (fall  fighting  to  a  man), 
against  the  mighty  Persian  host  of  Xerxes.  They 
fell,  but  their  heroic  deed  will  ever  live  in  history 
as  one  of  the  brightest  examples  of  American 
valor  I 

Again  the  Confederate  legions  are  pressing  on- 
ward. But  Keenan  and  his  brave  comrades  have 
not  fallen  in  vain!  For  more  than  ten  minutes 
have  elapsed,  and  General  Pleasanton's  cannons 
are  in  position,  pouring  a  murderous  fire  on  the 
advancing  foe. 

Soon  after  other  artillery  and  infantry  are 
added  to  these,  and  at  last  the  enemy  is  checked. 

It  was  now  nine  o'clock  at  night.  Although  the 
Confederates  had  been  halted,  and  the  heavy  fir- 
ing had  ceased,  it  was  but  the  lull  of  preparation 
before  a  more  desperate  and  bloody  struggle ;  for 
both  sides  were  hurrying  reinforcements  to  the 
front.  It  was  at  this  very  time  (while  forming 
for  the  contest)  that  the  Confederates  met  with 
a  heavy  and  irreparable  loss.  Stonewall  Jack- 
son, the  leader  and  originator  of  this  brilliant 
night  attack,  fell  mortally  wounded.  He  was  shot 
— while  returning  from  a  reconnoissance — by  his 
own  men,  who  in  the  moonlight  mistook  him  and 
his  staff  for  a  body  of  the  enemy's  cavalry. 

Upon  the  fall  of  Stonewall  Jackson,  General 


(A  Village  Mystery  and 
Through  War  to  Peace} 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       281 

Hill  assumed  command,  and  a  short  time  after 
the  desultory  fire,  which  had  been  constantly  main- 
tained, burst  almost  at  once,  as  if  by  the  precon- 
certed action  of  both  armies,  into  wild  sheets  of 
flame. 

This  night-battle  was  a  grand,  terrible  and  soul- 
stirring  scene,  that  in  after  years  never  could  fade 
or  grow  dim  in  the  minds  of  the  soldiers  who  took 
part  in  the  ghastly  drama  of  that  eventful  night! 
Although  it  was  approaching  midnight,  it  was  not 
dark,  for  a  full  moon  shed  its  silvery  light  over 
the  raging  conflict.  And  on  the  calm  night  air, 
the  roar  of  over  a  hundred  cannons  and  the  thou- 
sands of  musketry  reverberated  with  awful  dis- 
tinctness; the  sky  above  was  ablaze  with  the  lurid 
flames  of  the  artillery,  while  on  the  field,  in  the 
flashing  light,  lay  the  mangled  and  bloody  bodies 
of  the  slain! 

Shortly  before  midnight  the  firing  began  to 
slacken,  and  soon  after  ceased.  When  the  sound 
of  the  last  gun  had  died  away  the  men  lay  down 
on  their  arms  to  rest,  but  during  the  few  hours 
that  remained  before  daylight  few  of  them  closed 
their  eyes  in  sleep.  For  their  brains  were  far  too 
excited  by  the  awful  and  weird  scenes  they  had 
just  passed  through  to  seek  repose.  And  when 
their  thoughts  did  wander  from  the  scenes  of  that 
eventful  Saturday  night,  they  were  to  many  a 
more  happy  Saturday  night  they  had  spent  in  the 
peaceful  homes  far  away. 

At  daylight  the  next  morning  the  battle  began 
by  the  Confederates  under  General  Stuart — who 
had  taken  command  after  the  wounding  of  Gen- 
eral Hill  by  a  shell — seizing  a  commanding  and 


282     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

elevated  position  near  the  Chancellorsville  House, 
which  the  Federals,  through  a  blunder,  had  aban- 
doned. Stuart,  upon  seizing  this  vantage  ground, 
immediately  began  covering  it  with  artillery,  but 
in  doing  so,  he  became  engaged  with  the  rear  of 
Hooker's  army.  This  was  the  signal  for  the  re- 
newal of  the  battle,  and  in  a  few  minutes  it  was 
raging  along  the  entire  line ! 

But  we  shall  not  describe  the  battle  around 
Chancellorsville,  but  turn  our  attention  to  another 
part  of  the  field,  eleven  miles  further  down  the 
river,  where  General  Sedgewick's  corps  was  sta- 
tioned, of  which  the  St.  Arlyle  regiment  formed  a 
part.  Sedgewick's  corps,  during  the  night,  had 
crossed  the  river  and  entered  Fredericksburg, 
driving  the  enemy's  skirmishers  before  them,  and 
w  i  now  at  the  first  beams  of  day,  making  prep- 
arations to  attack  the  frowning  heights  of  Fred- 
ericksburg. 

As  soon  as  daylight  breaks  a  brigade  of  Sedge- 
wick's men  advance  up  the  sloping  side  of  the 
height.  The  sun  is  shining,  but  a  fog  hangs  over 
the  hillside,  and  as  the  men  advance  beneath  it 
on  that  calm  Sabbath  morning,  a  host  of  sad  mem- 
ories are  flooding  through  their  brains,  of  another 
day,  a  few  months  before,  when  they  charged  the 
frowning  heights  again  and  again  till  the  glacis 
was  covered  with  their  dead  and  wounded  com- 
rades, but,  alas !  in  vain ! 

All  is  still  as  death,  until  they  have  almost 
reached  the  stone  wall  near  the  hill's  crest,  then 
there  is  a  wild  burst  of  flame,  a  deafening  roar 
and  a  terrible  shower  of  iron  and  lead  is  hurled 
through  their  ranks!  Repeatedly  they  attempt 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       283 

to  carry  the  breastworks,  but  their  ranks  are 
thinned  and  torn  asunder  by  the  merciless  fire, 
and  they  are  forced  to  fall  back,  leaving  the 
ground  covered  with  their  dead  and  wounded. 

But  ere  long,  they  are  rallied  again,  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill,  and,  being  heavily  reinforced,  once 
more  advance  to  the  attack. 

In  the  center  of  the  attacking  column  has  been 
placed  the  St.  Arlyle  regiment. 

The  men  as  they  press  forward  meet  with  a 
light  fire,  till  within  about  four  hundred  yards  of 
the  wall,  then  the  guns  on  the  hill  pour  a  terrific 
volley  of  canister  and  grape  upon  them,  tearing 
huge  gaps  in  their  ranks,  but  they  bravely  close 
the  breaches  and  press  onward  at  a  run.  Charlie 
Landon  is  wounded  in  the  arm,  but  he  is  cheering 
his  men  on,  heedless  of  the  storm  of  death.  And 
near  him  is  Marshall,  who  has  all  the  while  been 
conspicuous  for  his  bravery.  Each  moment  the 
fire  grows  heavier,  the  air  is  filled  with  deadly 
missiles,  but  on  the  men  rush,  though  the  ground 
is  covered  with  their  slain.  At  last  the  stone  wall 
is  reached,  and  regardless  of  the  withering  fire, 
the  Federals  leap  over  it  and  drive  the  enemy 
from  their  position. 

Among  the  first  to  vault  over  the  wall  are  Lan- 
don and  Marshall,  but  as  the  latter  reaches  the 
ground  he  is  struck  in  the  breast  by  a  bullet,  but 
ere  he  falls  Charlie  Landon  catches  him  in  his 
arms.  And  as  Landon  lays  him  tenderly  on  the 
ground  the  wounded  man  says : 

"Leave  me,  Colonel.  They  want  you  up  there!1' 
waving  his  hand  toward  the  hill's  crest. 

"My  poor  fellow,  it's  hard  to  leave  you  so, 


284    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

when  perhaps  you  are  bleeding  to  death,  and  I 
could  help  you,"  said  Charlie,  sadly,  as  he  looked 
down  tenderly  into  the  wounded  man's  face. 
"But  duty  forces  me  onward,  and  I  suppose  I 
must  obey,"  he  continued,  as  he  reluctantly  placed 
the  other's  head  on  a  knapsack  for  a  pillow.  And 
as  he  arose,  hesitatingly,  there  was  a  desperate 
struggle  going  on  in  his  tender  heart,  between  pity 
and  duty. 

"Yes,  leave  me,  Colonel;  they  need  you  up 
there." 

"I  suppose  I  must!     But  it  is  bitter  to  do  so!" 

The  regiment  had  already  passed  them,  and 
there  was  not  a  moment  to  lose,  for  already  the 
men  were  looking  for  their  leader,  so  Charlie  said 
hurriedly,  yet  tenderly,  as  he  quickly  applied  a  wet 
pledget,  covered  with  tannic  acid,  to  the  wound, 
"My  dear  fellow,  I'll  be  back  to  you  the  moment 
the  struggle  is  over.  Good-bye!" 

"Thank  you,  my  boy!      Good-bye!"  said  the 
wounded  soldier  calmly,   as   the  other  bounded 
away. 

The  stone  wall  and  the  rifle-pits  have  been  cap- 
tured and  cleared,  but  the  cannons  on  the  hill  are 
still  vomiting  with  renewed  thunder  their  shot  and 
shell !  But  up  the  brave  fellows  go,  though  their 
ranks  are  cut  through  and  through.  But  nothing 
can  daunt  the  courage  and  enthusiasm  of  these 
heroic  men  I  At  last  the  hill  top  is  reached,  and 
amid  wild  cheers  the  batteries  are  taken.  And  in 
a  few,  moments  more  the  stars  and  stripes  are 
floating  proudly  on  the  crest ! 

After  capturing  the  Heights  the  Federals  pur- 
sued the  enemy  for  nearly  two  miles ;  but  the  Con- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       285 

federates  being  strongly  reinforced,  they  were 
compelled  to  halt.  But  the  brilliant  charge  of 
Sedgewick's  men  in  carrying  the  Fredericksburg 
Heights  was  in  vain,  for  through  several  blunders 
in  other  parts  of  the  field,  the  battle  had  been  al- 
ready lost.  But  this  brave  charge  will  ever 
"shine  out  as  one  relieving  brightness  amid  the 
gloom  of  that  hapless  battle." 

So  during  Tuesday  night,  amid  a  violent  rain 
storm,  and  after  three  days  of  fighting,  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  crossed  the  river  on  pontoon 
bridges,  and  the  great  battle  of  Chancellorsville 
was  ended! 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 

AT  REST  AT  LAST. 

Soldier,  rest!  thy  warfare  o'er, 
Dream  of  fighting  field  no  more; 
Sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  not  breaking, 
Morn  of  toil  or  night  of  waking. — Scott. 

After  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville  the  Army 
of  the  Potomac  fell  back  to  its  old  camping 
ground  at  Falmouth.  Here  the  thousands  of 
wounded,  who  had  fallen  in  the  battle,  had  been 
conveyed  across  the  river,  filling  the  numerous 
hastily  improvised  hospitals  to  their  utmost 
capacity. 

Near  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  in  a  small  rose- 
wreathed  cottage,  with  a  cool,  inviting  ivy-twined 
porch,  facing  a  little  garden,  redolent  with  bloom- 
ing flowers,  Marshall's  St.  Arlyle  friends  had 
tenderly  carried  the  wounded  soldier.  Though 


286     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

his  wound  was  a  severe  and  painful  one,  it  was 
not  necessarily  fatal.  Almost  from  the  first,  all 
that  medical  skill  could  do  for  him  had  been  done, 
for  Dr.  Granville  and  Charles  Landon  had  been 
persistent  in  their  attention  to  him.  Bertha  had 
also  hurried  to  his  side,  and  all  that  lay  in  the 
power  of  a  woman's  gentle  hand  to  perform  for 
a  wounded  soldier — and  that  is  more  than  words 
can  tell — she  eagerly  did  for  him.  For  she  felt 
that  she  owed  him  an  inestimable  debt  of  gratitude 
for  his  noble  services  on  that  eventful  night  when 
she  had  been  allured  to  the  lonely  house  near  the 
enemy's  lines.  And  Marshall's  conduct  after- 
ward, when  arrested,  in  refusing  to  criminate  her, 
though  thereby  he  could  have  gained  a  most  im- 
portant witness  in  his  defense,  had  ennobled  him 
in  her  estimation  with  martyr-like  qualities. 

On  the  fifth  day  after  receiving  his  wound  he 
seemed  to  be  doing  well,  when  suddenly  one  of  the 
ligated  arteries  broke,  and  bled  so  profusely  that 
it  required  the  combined  efforts  of  Dr.  Granville 
and  Charlie  Landon  to  control  the  hemorrhage. 
After  the  ruptured  artery  had  been  "taken  up" 
he  fell  into  a  gentle  sleep,  and  Bertha,  who  had 
been  constantly  by  his  side,  left  him  to  attend  to 
others.  But  as  soon  as  she  was  at  leisure  she 
eagerly  returned  to  him. 

He  had  just  awoke,  and  was  very  pale  and 
weak.  After  she  had  given  him  a  stimulant,  in 
answer  to  her  question  of  how  he  felt,  he  looked 
up  vaguely,  as  if  his  thoughts  were  wandering  far 
away,  while  he  said  sadly,  yet  still  with  a  shade 
of  the  old  peculiar  humor  on  his  pale  face: 

"Sort  of  annihilated;  kind  of  Vandalized." 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       287 

In  spite  of  her  heavy  heart,  a  faint  smile 
crossed  her  lips  at  this  characteristic  reply. 

He  saw  it  and  his  pallid  face  brightened  with 
something  of  the  old  humor  as  he  said: 

"I've  used  those  words  so  long  and  often  that 
they  have  almost  become  a  part  of  my  nature. 
But  I  have  no  doubt  they  are  not  far  from  the 
truth  now." 

"I  hope  not,"  she  said,  sincerely. 

uYes,"  he  said,  calmly,  "I  have  a  presentiment 
that  this  is  the  last  of  the  earth  for  me;  that  my 
bark  of  life  is  surely  and  rapidly  sailing  into  the 
port  of  eternity!" 

"Cheer  up,"  she  replied,  "for  while  there's 
life  there's  hope.  God  often  gives  us  dark  hours, 
so  that  we  may  fully  appreciate  the  bright  sun- 
shine He  sends  at  last!" 

"True,  but  I  think  my  sunshine  will  be  in  an- 
other world!" 

That  night  he  slept  well  and  awoke  refreshed, 
and  his  friends  became  much  encouraged,  think- 
ing he  was  on  the  way  to  recovery. 

From  the  day  he  had  rescued  Bertha  he  had 
become  a  changed  man.  Since  then  he  had  not 
drunk  a  drop  of  liquor;  the  old  aimlessness  fled, 
and  he  grew  more  thoughtful  and  eager  to  re- 
deem the  past.  He  was  not  less  brave,  but  he 
tried  to  be  nobler  and  better. 

For  several  days  he  seemed  to  grow  stronger, 
but  one  morning  there  came  suddenly  a  rapid 
change  for  the  worse,  and  it  became  evident  that 
his  end  was  approaching.  One  afternoon  he 
called  Dr.  Granville  to  his  side  and  asked: 

"Doctor,  it  is  all  over  with  me,  is  it  not?" 


288     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Dr.  Granville  replied,  sadly,  "Your  case  is  very 
critical,  but  there  is  a  feeble  chance  for  life." 

He  turned  inquiringly  to  Landon,  as  Charlie 
replied: 

"Yes,  it  is  a  desperate  case.  But  you  are  in 
God's  hands,  you  know.  Let  us  hope  for  the 
best." 

"Thank  you,  Doctor,  my  boy;  I  understand. 
And  I  am  willing  to  go.  For  I  think  now,  at 
last,  I'm  able  to  say  what  I  ought  to  have  learned 
to  say  years  ago :  What  is  God's  will  is  mine.  For 
He  does  all  things  for  the  best,  though  His  ways 
may  not  always  be  plain  to  us.  But  the  Good 
Book  tells  us:  'It  is  the  glory  of  God  to  conceal  a 
thing.'  And  it  is,  no  doubt,  best  for  us  not  to 
know  His  mysterious  ways  of  kindness. 

"I've  courted  death  before,"  he  continued,  ua 
hundred  times  and  more,  but  it  has  passed  me  by. 
And  now,  when  I've  commenced  to  lead  a  better 
life,  I'm  called  to  go.  But,  perhaps,  our  Heavenly 
Father,  in  His  sweet  mercy,  calls  us  when  we're 
at  our  best.  In  my  poor  case  infinitely  far  from 
what  I  ought  to  be.  But  in  the  future  I  had 
hoped  to  retrieve  something  of  my  wasted  life — at 
least  do  better.  But  man  proposes,  and  God  dis- 
poses. And,  I  can't  help  thinking,  always  for  the 
best." 

Throughout  the  afternoon  and  evening  the 
hemorrhage  continued,  and  late  in  the  night,  as 
he  grew  weaker  and  weaker,  his  mind  began  to 
wander  to  other  scenes,  to  other  days,  when  in 
the  voyage  of  life  he  was  but  a  boy,  and  when 
hope  and  young  vigor  pictured  the  future  with  the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      289 

bright  sunshine  and  happiness  that  only  youth  can 
cherish ! 

As  Charles  Landon  and  Frank  Meredith 
watched  by  his  bedside  they  often  caught  the 
name  of  his  sister  trembling  upon  his  lips,  around 
whose  memory  such  a  wealth  of  his  love  was 
clasped.  He  saw  her  again  in  her  girlhood,  in 
all  of  her  beauty,  sweetness  and  innocence;  and 
his  thoughts  of  her  were  ever  thus,  to  the  last. 

Then  his  mind  wandered  to  the  after  days  of 
his  erratic  career.  In  his  thoughts  he  was  again 
in  Turkey,  mingling  amid  its  fields  of  blood  and 
death !  Once  more  the  scene  was  changed,  and 
he  was  sharing  the  fate  of  down-trodden  Greece. 
Again  the  drama  of  his  life  was  varied,  and  he 
was  acting  over  his  checkered  course  in  Germany. 
Another  turn  of  fortune's  wheel,  and  he  was  amid 
Mexico's  turbulent  strife  again.  But  wherever 
his  thoughts  wandered  there  were  always  kind 
words  and  wishes  for  many  a  name  of  those  whose 
friendship  he  still  remembered. 

Then,  as  his  mind  drifted  into  later  years  and 
the  actors  and  scenes  shifted  again — in  his  fancy 
he  was  living  over  his  life  in  St.  Arlyle.  And  by 
his  mutterings  they  learned  that  many  happy  mem- 
ories of  his  bygone  life  were  linked  around  the 
little  village  he  never  more  would  see.  And  as 
he  named  over  his  village  friends,  one  by  one, 
for  not  a  name  was  omitted  or  forgotten,  the  re- 
membrance of  each  struck  a  tender  chord  in  his 
heart. 

There  were  two  names  he  often  repeated  in  his 
mind's  wanderings,  and  always  with  the  strongest 
solicitude  and  praise.  They  were  those  of  Bertha 


290    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

and  Charles.  Bertha  he  frequently  mentioned  as 
the  little  curly-headed  child  he  had  watched  grow 
into  the  beautiful  girl. 

Of  Charlie  he  often  murmured  words  of  strong 
admiration,  but  it  seemed  to  pain  and  perplex  him 
to  think  that  so  brave  and  generous  a  fellow  could 
be  untrue  to  Bertha. 

And  now,  for  the  last  time,  his  thoughts 
changed,  for  the  drama  of  his  life  was  almost 
ended — and  in  his  fancy  he  was  following  again 
the  fortunes  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac;  fight- 
ing over  the  bloody  battles  of  the  Peninsular  cam- 
paign; mingling  again  amid  the  strife  of  Anti- 
etam;  again  struggling  through  the  carnage  of 
Fredericksburg.  And  ere  the  curtain  of  his  fancies 
fell  he  lived  over  that  bloody  and  fatal  day  when 
his  regiment  charged  up  the  glacis,  under  the  fire 
from  the  Fredericksburg  Heights,  on  the  battle 
field  of  Chancellorsville ! 

His  mutterings  ceased,  and  for  some  time  he  lay 
in  silence ;'  then  his  head  moved  slightly,  and  he 
awoke  perfectly  rational.  Charles  arose  and 
went  to  his  bedside,  when  he  asked  for  a  drink  of 
water.  After  drinking  it  he  turned  his  eyes  to- 
ward Meredith,  whose  head  was  bent  down  on  his 
arms,  and  asked,  in  a  whisper:  "Is  he  asleep?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Landon. 

"Bend  your  head  down,  my  boy!"  said  he,  "I 
wish  to  say  a  few  words  privately  to  you.  I  wish 
you  to  promise  to  be  always  a  friend — a  true 
friend,  in  the  strongest,  purest  and  best  sense  of 
the  word — to  Bertha.  For  she  is  a  sweet,  gener- 
ous girl,  with  the  truest,  noblest  heart  that  ever 
beat  in  a  woman's  breast.  She  has  a  great,  heroic 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      291 

soul,  as  far  above  envy  and  greed  as  the  heavens 
are  above  the  earth.  In  her  many  deeds  of  kind- 
ness she  realized  in  all  its  grandest  sweetness, 
'What  a  woman  true  may  be.'  ' 

"Your  request  is  an  easy  one  to  grant,"  replied 
the  young  fellow,  as  a  blush  mantled  his  cheek 
and  a  tender  light  filled  his  eyes,  "for  she  is  a 
noble  girl,  with  a  heart  as  sweet  and  pure  as  that 
of  a  child.  And  often  when  I  have  stood  amid 
a  group  of  soldiers,  when  she  passed,  and  I  have 
seen  them  raise  their  caps  and  heard  them  speak 
almost  reverentially  of  her  many  deeds  of  kind- 
ness, as  I  gazed  upon  her  spiritual  beauty,  I  could 
almost  see  a  seraphic  halo  around  her  beautiful 
head.  And  often  in  my  dreams  I  have  seen  her 
as  an  angel,  floating  above  my  rude  bed,  on  many 
a  field  of  strife.  How  dearly  I  love  her  no  words 
can  express.  And  I  can  only  say,  may  heaven 
deal  with  me,  as  I  deal  with  her!" 

"I  am  satisfied,"  said  Marshall.  "Good-night." 
And  he  turned  his  head  over  on  the  pillow  and 
soon  fell  asleep. 

It  was  late  the  next  morning  when  Marshall 
awoke.  Bertha  had  just  entered  the  room,  and  as 
she  gazed  down  at  him  she  noticed  how  pale  his 
face  had  grown,  and  how  weakly  he  breathed,  al- 
though his  eyes  looked  unusually  dark  and  bright. 
She  bent  over  him  and  asked  him  how  he  had 
slept.  At  the  sound  of  her  voice  he  turned  his 
gaze  toward  her  in  silence,  while  a  shadow  of  the 
old  merry  smile  played  on  his  lips,  as  if  the  sight 
of  her  tender  and  beautiful  face  awoke  pleasant 
memories.  He  remained  silent  for  several  mo- 


292     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

ments,  watching  her  face,  as  if  fascinated  by  its 
tender  beauty,  then  replied: 

"Very  well,  indeed." 

"I'm  glad  you've  rested  well,"  she  said,  kindly. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "Heaven  is  always  good  to 
us  in  the  end,  and  gives  us  rest !  That  lesson  of 
trust  and  peace  many  of  us  ought  to  have  learned 
before.  And  it  seems  strange  to  me  now  that  I 
could  not  look  through  the  mist  of  life's  troubles 
and  trials,  to  the  better  and  purer  home  of  tran- 
quility;  the  rest  God  has  so  freely  promised  to 
all. 

"For  these  long  years  I've  led  a  reckless,  erring 
life.  But  I  think  and  hope  that  it  was  more 
through  thoughtlessness  than  intentional  wicked- 
ness. I  began  those  years  wrong,  with  not  enough 
of  faith  and  hope,  but  with  a  burning  desire  for 
revenge,  and  an  utter  lack  of  trust  in  man — and, 
I'm  afraid,  in  God  also — that  finally  grew  into 
recklessness ! 

"But,"  he  added,  "there  were  days  in  those  wild 
years  of  recklessness  when  I  tried  to  throw  off  the 
wild  life,  and  I  thought  I  had  succeeded,  when  a 
mere  incident  would  bring  back  the  old  agonizing 
sorrow  of  that  evening  I  never  could  forget !  The 
evening  when  we  learned  the  truth  of  my  sister's 
awful  death.  That  tragic  scene  can  never  be 
effaced  from  my  memory.  I  see  it  now,  as  I 
have  seen  it  many  times  through  all  these  years! 
My  sister  had  been  keeping  company  with  Shackle 
for  some  time — he  was  a  handsome  man  then, 
though  when  you  knew  him  you  would  hardly  be- 
lieve it,  so  greatly  was  he  changed — when  we 
learned  he  was  already  married.  But,  on  seeking 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      293 

my  sister,  we  found  she  had  fled.  My  father  sent 
messengers  in  every  direction  to  seek  her.  Mean- 
while we  were  in  terrible  suspense.  At  last  one 
of  the  messengers  found  her,  and  brought  us  the 
truth.  I  shall  never  forget  the  scene  that  then 
occurred.  It  was  evening,  and  my  mother,  my 
father  (who  was  just  recovering  from  a  severe 
attack  of  pneumonia)  and  I  were  standing  on  the 
porch  when  the  messenger  came.  He  informed 
us  that  he  was  too  late;  and  that  my  sister  had 
committed  suicide  by  taking  poison.  Then  fol- 
lowed an  awful  spectacle,  that  through  all  the 
after  years  has  never  grown  dim!  My  mother, 
with  a  terrible  scream,  fell  fainting  on  the  door 
step  ere  any  one  could  catch  her.  My  father 
turned  deadly  pale,  while  he  pressed  one  hand 
upon  his  breast,  as  if  to  control  his  agony.  Then 
I  saw  his  lips  were  red,  and  the  next  instant  the 
hot  blood  spurted  over  his  bosom.  But  ere  he 
fell  we  caught  him  and  carried  him  into  the  house. 
He  lingered  on,  but  never  recovered  from  the 
shock.  He  died  a  month  after — while  I  was  far 
away  in  Turkey. 

"I  went  to  his  house  and  inquired  for  him,  but 
was  spurned  from  the  door.  Then,  there  in  the 
street,  I  cursed  him  again  and  again,  with  all  the 
bitterness  of  my  soul.  I  went  home.  They  had 
just  brought  my  sister's  body  and  laid  it  upon  a 
bed.  And  as  she  lay  there  in  death's  cold  em- 
brace, in  all  her  wondrous  beauty,  her  image  has 
ever  been  impressed  upon  my  mind,  through  all 
these  after  years.  She  had  on  the  same  white 
dress  she  had  worn  before  her  death;  not  even  the 
white  rose  had  been  removed  from  her  breast, 


294    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

where  she  had  placed  it,  while  one  cold  little  hand 
was  lying  beside  it,  as  if  she  had  but  just  ceased 
toying  with  it.  Her  dark,  curly  hair  clustered 
around  her  pale  brow  and  hung  far  down  over  her 
shoulders;  the  white  eyelids  were  closed,  hiding 
forever  the  large,  lustrous  eyes,  and  her  lips  were 
gently  parted,  as  if  in  sleep. 

"I  was  wild  with  grief,  and  in  my  madness  I 
challenged  Shackle  to  fight  a  duel.  He  had  me 
arrested,  but  my  friends  soon  procured  bail  for 
me.  I  was  never  prosecuted,  for  before  the  day 
of  trial  came  Shackle  fled! 

"Two  days  after  my  sister's  death  she  was 
buried.  I  stood  by  her  grave  till  I  saw  the  last 
shovelful  of  earth  thrown  in.  Then  I  realized 
that  I  had  lost  her  forever!  The  idolized  sister, 
to  whom  my  heart  had  been  so  closely  bound. 
From  that  moment  I  became  wild  and  reckless, 
and  I  felt  I  should  never  know  peace  and  hope 
again !  I  only  thought  and  dreamed  of  vengeance ! 
I  lost  faith  in  man,  and,  I'm  afraid,  in  God,  too! 
My  heart  became  steeled  to  danger.  I  feared 
nothing — not  even  death.  I  went  to  Turkey,  be- 
cause there  was  war  there,  and  I  loved  turmoil  and 
strife,  for  the  danger  and  excitement  made  me 
forget  my  grief.  I  was  the  leader  in  many  dan- 
gerous expeditions.  I  even  courted  death  over 
and  over  again,  but  I  always  escaped  unscathed. 
My  reckless  daring  won  me  rapid  promotion,  but 
ere  long  my  ever  restlessness  urged  me  onward. 
I  went  to  Greece,  but  my  sorrow  went  with  me 
and  would  not  let  me  rest.  Here,  amid  the  battle 
fields  of  Greece,  I  grew,  if  possible,  more  reck- 
less and  daring  than  ever.  I  learned  to  love 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      295 

danger  in  its  wildest  froms.  Nothing  daunted  me, 
and  the  men  under  my  command  thought  I  did 
not  know  what  fear  was,  or  that  I  was  mad.  Per- 
haps I  was.  I  was  trying  to  drown  my  sorrow, 
but  it  clung  to  me  like  the  Old  Man  of  the  Sea 
did  to  Sinbad  the  Sailor.  My  fearlessness  won 
me  promotion.  I  was  on  the  road  to  fortune. 
But  it  was  the  same  ending.  The  old  restlessness 
came  back  with  treble  its  former  force,  and  I 
flung  everything  aside  and  fled  to  Germany.  But, 
as  ever,  my  grief  went  with  me. 

"I  had  been  in  Germany  several  months,  and  I 
was  stopping  at  a  hotel  in  Berlin,  when  one  warm 
evening  as  I  was  walking  along  the  hall  of  the 
hotel,  I  saw  a  bedroom  door  partly  open  and  I 
casually  glanced  in.  There  was  a  man  lying  on 
the  bed,  and  I  knew  him  in  an  instant,  in  spite  of 
his  changed  appearance.  //  was  Shackle! 

"I  entered  the  room  and  stood  leaning  over  his 
bed.  He  was  so  terribly  changed  that  even  I 
was  shocked  at  the  emaciated,  haggard,  and  wild, 
haunted  expression  of  his  countenance.  In  fact, 
so  awfully  was  he  changed  that  I  would  not  have 
recognized  him  had  not  his  face  been  constantly 
before  my  mental  view.  If  his  face  was  any 
criterion,  he  must  have  suffered  terribly.  But 
for  him  there  was  no  room  for  pity  in  my  heart. 
I  recrossed  the  room,  and,  locking  the  door,  re- 
turned and  stood  leaning  over  him,  as  I  drew  a 
dagger  from  my  breast. 

'Vengeance !  Vengeance  at  last  is  mine !'  I 
thought,  as  I  stood  gloating  over  him.  'You  shall 
not  escape  now.  I  can  kill  you  with  as  little 
feeling  as  I  would  a  wild  beast!  I  have  hoped 


296    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

and  longed  for  this!  And  at  last  it  has  come! 
You  must  die  like  a  dog!'  I  raised  the  dagger  to 
bury  it  in  his  body.  It  was  already  descending 
in  the  air,  when  I  suddenly  felt  a  hand  grasp  my 
arm !  I  turned  my  head,  and  there  was  my  sister 
standing  by  my  side!  Exactly  as  I  had  last  seen 
her,  on  the  day  of  her  death — in  a  white  dress, 
her  dark,  curly  hair  clinging  about  her  pale,  sweet 
face,  and  hanging  far  down  her  shoulders,  while 
one  little  hand  was  grasping  the  white  rose  on 
her  breast.  I  was  struck  dumb  and  I  almost 
fainted,  while  unconsciously  and  seemingly  by 
some  power  stronger  than  my  own,  I  replaced  the 
dagger.  As  I  did  so,  a  smile  of  approval  crossed 
her  lips,  and  the  next  moment  she  melted  into 
air.  I  left  the  room,  and  fled  from  the  city — 
away  from  temptation. 

"I'm  not  superstitious,  but  I  shall  always  think 
I  saw  my  sister's  spirit  standing  by  my  side.  I 
know  that  physicians  account  for  these  super- 
natural apparitions  by  telling  us:  That  in  such 
cases  either  the  brain,  the  retina  or  the  optic  nerve 
being  unusually  excited,  are  thus  rendered  sens- 
itive to  an  appearance  that  in  reality  does  not 
exist.  For  there  is  such  a  close  union  between  the 
senses  and  the  mind,  that  we  continually  transfer 
to  the  real  world — without  being  aware  of  it — 
that  which  pertains  to  the  realm  of  thought. 
Thus,  they  say,  a  picture  that  has  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  us  at  one  time,  will  reappear  to 
us  during  partial  sleep,  perfect  in  every  detail,  or, 
perhaps,  varied  by  the  capricious  wanderings  of 
our  thoughts.  And  that  passion  and  other  strong, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      297 

violent  mental  feelings  are  apt  to  evoke  optical 
delusions. 

"From  the  day  I  saw  her  sweet  spiritual  face 
there  came  a  change  for  the  better — there  was 
more  of  peace  in  my  heart.  Not  a  full  peace,  but 
a  touch  of  tranquility. 

"When  I  left  Germany  I  went  to  Mexico.  Of 
the  life  I  led  among  its  wild,  revolutionary  scenes, 
I  shall  not  dwell.  Then  I  went  to  St.  Arlyle.  Of 
my  life  there  you.  are  fully  familiar.  At  last  the 
Civil  War  broke  out.  I  was  a  soldier,  and  it 
seemed  but  natural  that  I  should  enlist,  besides, 
my  heart  was  not  yet  tranquil  enough,  but  that  I 
still  loved  strife  and  excitement,  and  then,  I  had 
truly  learned  to  love  the  Republic — the  grandest 
example  of  liberty  and  justice  the  world  ever  saw, 
or,  perhaps,  ever  will. 

"The  night  Shackle  decoyed  you  into  his 
power,"  he  continued,  "I  went  to  the  hospital  to 
look  for  you.  There  I  was  given  the  letter  you 
had  left  for  me.  I  recognized  in  a  moment  that 
it  was  Shackle's  handwriting,  and  I  knew  that  he 
was  again  at  his  old  villainy.  And  I  determined 
to  save  you,  let  it  cost  what  it  would.  How  I 
followed  you,  how  I  fought  Shackle,  and  how  I 
was  afterward  arrested,  you  are  fully  acquainted. 

"The  night  of  my  arrest,"  he  continued,  after 
grasping  for  breath,  "as  I  lay  sleeping  in  the 
guard  house,  I  suddenly  awoke,  and  there,  by  my 
bedside,  stood  my  sister's  spirit,  exactly  as  I  had 
seen  her  once  before;  her  dark  hair  clustering 
around  her  pretty  face  and  hanging  over  the 
shoulders  of  her  white  dress,  while  one  little  hand 
was  grasping  the  white  rose  on  her  breast.  She 


298     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

raised  her  hand  and  pointed  upward,  as  a  sweet 
smile  crossed  her  lips  ere  she  melted  away.  Then 
I  knew  I  had  her  approval  in  foiling  Shackle's 
villainy.  From  that  moment  there  came  into  my 
heart  a  feeling  of  rest  and  peace,  that  I  had 
yearned  for  through  many  a  weary  year." 

The  dying  soldier  was  silent  for  some  time, 
gasping  for  breath.  Then  he  began  in  a  feeble 
voice: 

"Last  night,  just  before  I  fell  asleep,  I  saw  my 
sister's  spirit  standing  by  my  bed.  She  appeared 
exactly  as  she  had  done  twice  before — in  a  white 
robe,  her  dark  hair  hanging  about  her  face  and 
neck,  while  one  small  hand  was  clasping  the  white 
rose  on  her  breast.  But  there  was  a  light  on  her 
face  that  I  had  never  seen  before — a  heavenly 
light,  that  shed  a  pure,  sweet  radiance  into  my 
soul.  She  raised  her  hand  and  pointed  upward, 
as  she  had  done  once  before.  But  instead  of 
fading  away,  as  before,  she  floated  upward,  far, 
far  away  through  clouds  and  space,  till  I  saw  her 
join  the  angels  on  the  heavenly  shore.  Then  I 
knew  she  had  pointed  and  shown  me  the  w.ay. 
And  then  my  heart,  at  last,  had  found  the  perfect 
peace  and  love." 

He  was  rapidly  growing  weaker,  and  it  was  evi- 
dent that  in  a  few  minutes  all  would  be  over,  as 
he  said,  feebly: 

"Miss  Bertha,  I  want  you  to  write  to  my 
mother,  and  tell  her  I  fell  in  defense  of  the  flag 
I  learned  to  love  best  of  all.  Tell  her  that  I  died 
at  peace  with  my  God  and  man.  Tell  her  that 
ere  my  life  or  hers  was  done,  I  had  hoped  to  meet 
her  once  again  in  the  old  home  across  the  water, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      299 

in  Erin's  Isle.  But  it  has  been  willed  otherwise, 
and  I  submit !  Tell  her  I  at  last  found  the  faith 
she  taught  me  at  her  knee.  The  grand,  glorious 
faith  God  has  given  to  us  all.  And  tell  her  that 
through  it  I  hope  to  meet  her  on  the  shining  shore 
of  peace!" 

When  he  ceased  speaking  he  lay  motionless, 
his  eyes  closed,  and  he  breathed  imperceptibly, 
while  a  deathly  pallor  covered  his  face.  But 
after  several  moments  he  slightly  rallied,  as  she 
bent  her  ear  down  to  catch  his  dying  words,  he 
said: 

"I  had  hoped,  in  future  years,  to  lead  a  better 
life.  The  past  one  was  full  of  care  and  unrest. 
But  it  was  my  own  fault  that  I  found  the  thorns 
and  missed  the  roses.  But  then  I'll  not  com- 
plain. The  greatest  crown  of  all  has  been  a 
diadem  of  thorns !  And  through  it,  I  hope,  I've 
found  the  right  path  up  to  God;  the  right  way 
home  to  peace!" 

Then  over  his  face  came  a  sweet  expression  of 
tranquility;  the  rest  he  had  longed  for  through 
many  a  weary  year;  and  the  soldier  of  fortune  had 
crossed  the  dark  ocean  into  the  haven  of  Eternal 

Rest! 

******* 

Of  the  ill-starred  life  Marshall  led  how  shall 
we  judge?  We,  who  know  so  little  of  the  emo- 
tions and  struggles  of  the  human  heart.  For  often 
beneath  a  calm  face  is  hidden  the  terrible  agony 
of  a  bitter  sorrow  for  loved  ones,  over  whom 
the  grass  has  grown  green;  yet  around  whose 
memories  grim  spectres  of  the  past  will  rise  to 
haunt  even  their  brightest  moments. 


300    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Thus  in  the  breasts  of  all  of  us,  at  times,  will 
come  welling  up  memories  haunted  by  spectres  of 
many  shattered  hopes,  many  sorrows,  many  errors 
and  vain  regrets,  that  will  often  make  us  waver 
or  stray  from  the  beaten  path. 

So,  only  God  can  fathom  the  motives  that 
prompt  and  direct  the  actions  in  each  human 
heart;  and,  therefore,  He  alone  can  estimate  the 
guilt  and  the  sin. 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 

And  backward  now  and  forward 

Wavers  the  deep  array; 
And   on  the  tossing  sea  of  steel 

To  and  fro  the  standards  reel, 
And  the  victorious  trumpet  peal 

Dies  fitfully  away. — Macauley. 

Beautifully  the  morning  of  the  first  of  July, 
1863,  broke  over  Gettysburg;  not  a  cloud  ob- 
scured the  clear  blue  sky,  while  the  warm  air  and 
streaming  sunshine  bathed  in  all  its  summer  splen- 
dor the  little  town  soon  to  be  rendered  immortal, 
as  the  field  not  only  one  of  the  most  decisive  and 
bloody  battle  of  the  Civil  War,  but  as  the  theatre 
of  one  of  the  greatest  conflicts  of  modern  times. 
From  early  dawn  the  scene  in  the  little  town  had 
been  one  of  mighty  martial  splendor  and  beauty, 
yet  inspiring  terror,  as  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
passed  through  it  toward  the  west,  with  its  long 
blue  columns  of  infantry,  their  bands  playing 
lively  strains  and  their  gay  banners  floating  out 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      301 

on  the  morning  air,  while  their  bright  arms  flashed 
and  danced  in  the  sunlight  with  a  dazzling  splen- 
dor; its  platoons  of  cavalry,  with  gleaming  sabres, 
followed  by  its  batteries  of  artillery,  their  huge 
guns  darting  back  the  sun  rays,  as  if  bidding  de- 
fiance to  every  foe,  while  amid  its  legions  rode  the 
crimson-sashed  officers,  the  gold  and  silver  insignia 
of  rank  glittering  on  their  shoulders. 

As  the  morning  wore  away,  with  a  steady  tread 
the  serried  ranks  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac 
moved  through  the  town.  It  was  a  few  minutes 
past  nine  o'clock,  when,  in  the  distance,  toward 
the  west  of  the  town,  a  puff  of  white  smoke  as- 
cended into  the  clear,  blue  sky,  and  the  next  in- 
stant the  crash  of  musketry  rolled  into  the  streets, 
followed  by  the  heavy  report  of  a  cannon. 
"Crash!  crash!  boom!  boom!"  and  in  a  few 
minutes  the  crash  has  grown  into  a  continuous 
crash,  and  the  boom  into  a  mighty  roar. 

There  had  been  a  sudden  collision  between  the 
Federal  General  Buford's  regiments,  drawn  up  in 
line  across  the  Chambersburg  road,  and  an  ad- 
vancing division  under  General  Harry  Heath,  of 
Lee's  army,  and  the  Battle  of  Gettysburg  had 
begun. 

In  a  few  moments  the  scene  in  the  town  was 
changed;  the  terrible  roar  of  the  heavy  guns  had 
broken  the  spell.  The  idlers  in  the  streets  who 
were  watching  the  passing  troops  turned  at  the 
first  sound  of  the  guns,  and  gazed  with  excited  and 
frightened  faces  toward  the  direction  of  the  rap- 
idly increasing  roar,  and  where  the  puffs  of  white 
smoke  above  the  trees  told  that  the  battle  was 
raging.  Through  the  serried  ranks  of  the  mov- 


302     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

ing  army  there  rolled  a  gentle  ripple  of  excite- 
ment, but  it  soon  increased  until  it  resembled  great 
waves  on  some  ocean's  breast.  Then  followed  a 
grand,  exciting  scene,  as  the  infantry,  with  flash- 
ing arms  and  streaming  standards,  pressed  for- 
ward at  the  double-quick,  and  the  cavalry,  with 
clashing  and  gleaming  sabres,  galloped  rapidly 
by,  while  the  artillery  horses  broke  into  a  rapid 
trot,  as  the  heavy  guns  thundered  along,  and  even 
the  bands  struck  up  wilder  strains,  while  the 
drummers  loudly  rattled  their  drums,  as  the 
trumpeters  sent  forth  their  shrill,  piercing  notes, 
while,  above  the  din,  the  officers  yelled  their 
orders  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  and  every  order 
was:  "Forward!  Forward  to  the  front!" 

As  the  troops  rushed  forward  to  the  vortex  of 
death,  there  were  no  cheers,  no  bravado,  only  the 
fixed  lips  and  determined  faces  of  the  men  showed 
the  gazers,  as  they  passed,  that  they  knew  the 
bloody  work  they  had  to  do,  and  that  they  in- 
tended to  do  it.  And  through  the  beholder  there 
ran  an  awful  shudder,  as  he  thought  many  of  them 
must  meet  a  terrible  death,  mangled  by  shot  and 
shell. 

It  was  the  intention  neither  of  General  Mead 
nor  Lee  to  fight  the  battle  at  Gettysburg,  but  so 
rapid  had  been  the  movements  of  both  armies 
that  each  commander  was  in  ignorance  of  the 
whereabouts  of  the  other's  troops  until  the  morn- 
ing of  the  battle.  General  Lee  had  intended 
reaching  Chambersburg  before  giving  battle,  and 
Mead  advanced  his  left  wing  under  General  Rey- 
nolds, in  front  of  Gettysburg,  as  a  feint  to  divert 
the  enemy's  attention,  while  he  formed  a  strong 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      303 

line  with  his  main  body  behind  Pipe  Creek,  twenty 
miles  distant.  Buford,  when  he  found  his  men 
in  collision  with  the  Confederates,  resolved  to 
hold  the  enemy  in  check  until  the  arrival  of  his 
chief,  General  Reynolds,  who,  with  his  command, 
was  two  miles  distant. 

Reynolds,  on  his  arrival,  had  no  orders  from 
General  Mead  to  commence  the  battle,  but  the 
exigencies  of  the  situation  supplied  the  place  of 
commands.  He  also  saw  the  necessity  of  rapid 
action,  as  Buford's  men  were  sorely  pressed,  and 
on  the  point  of  breaking;  so,  forming  his  entire 
command  at  the  edge  of  the  woods,  he  suddenly 
charged  to  Buford's  aid.  He  and  his  men  were 
met  with  a  perfect  storm  of  bullets,  and  while  gal- 
lantly leading  forward,  General  Reynolds  fell 
mortally  wounded  from  his  horse,  dying  where  he 
fell.  Notwithstanding  the  fall  of  their  com- 
mander, the  men  pressed  bravely  onward  with 
such  impetuosity  that  they  drove  two  Confederate 
regiments  into  a  railroad  excavation,  and  cap- 
tured them,  with  their  battle  flags. 

Reinforcements  rapidly  joined  both  combatants, 
and  the  battle  raged  with  terrible  fierceness,  the 
roar  of  the  artillery  was  terrific,  the  wild  flashes 
of  flame  leaped  everywhere  amid  the  sulphurous 
smoke,  like  forked  lightning,  and  solid  shot  and 
bursting  shells  were  falling  in  every  direction, 
while  the  air  was  filled  with  bullets. 

It  was  now  three  o'clock,  the  heat  was  intense, 
and  the  contest  was  raging  fierce  and  wild,  when, 
toward  the  northeast,  a  long,  waving  line  of  gray 
appeared  in  view.  The  new  troops  were  Stone- 
wall Jackson's  old  legions,  hurrying  to  the  field 


304    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

to  decide  the  fate  of  the  day.  Reaching  the  York 
road,  they  debouched  into  the  woods,  and  with 
their  old,  wild  battle  cry,  fell  with  crushing  force 
upon  the  Federal  right.  The  National  soldiers, 
though  outflanked  and  taken  in  the  rear,  changed 
front  and  fought  with  the  utmost  bravery,  but  the 
fire  poured  upon  them  was  terrific — for  men  who 
had  fought  in  all  the  former  great  battles  of  the 
war  said  they  never  were  under  a  hotter  fire.  At 
last  the  Federals  began  to  fall  back,  slowly  at 
first,  then  more  rapidly,  till  finally  their  ranks 
were  broken  and  the  retreat  became  a  rout,  and 
they  were  driven  through  the  streets  of  Gettys- 
burg in  wild  confusion,  with  the  loss  of  five  thou- 
sand prisoners.  The  Confederates  took  posses- 
sion of  the  town,  and  the  Federals  fell  back  on 
their  reserve  body,  which  had  been  posted  on 
Cemetery  Hill,  behind  Gettysburg.  It  was  at 
this  time — as  the  retreating  men  were  pouring 
through  Gettysburg  toward  the  Hill — that  Gen- 
eral Hancock  arrived  on  the  field.  He  had  been 
sent  by  General  Mead — who  was  still  at  Taney- 
town,  thirteen  miles  distant — to  take  command,  as 
soon  as  Mead  learned  of  the  battle  and  the  death 
of  Reynolds. 

Hancock  was  very  popular  with  the  rank  and 
file  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  his  com- 
manding appearance,  with  his  winning,  magnetic 
manner,  added  to  his  dashing  gallantry,  did  much 
toward  rally*.ig  and  forming  them  into  a  new  line. 
And  it  was  not  long  before  he  had  the  remnant  of 
the  army  re-formed  on  Cemetery  Heights,  behind 
ledges,  stone  walls  and  bowlders,  presenting  an 
abatis  of  bristling  bayonets.  Though  order  had 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       305 

been  restored,  and  a  strong  front  presented  to- 
ward the  enemy,  the  Federal  forces  were  yet  in 
imminent  danger,  for  it  was  evident  they  could 
not  resist  successfully  a  combined  attack  of  the 
enemy — and  defeat  meant  ruin! 

It  was  yet  several  hours  before  sunset,  and  a 
cloud  of  Confederate  skirmishers  were  already 
breasting  the  hill,  when  to  the  astonishment  and 
heart-felt  joy  of  the  Federals,  they  were  suddenly 
recalled,  and  thus  ended  the  first  day  of  the 
Battle  of  Gettysburg.  Though  it  had  been  a  day 
of  terrible  carnage,  yet  bloodier  days  were  to  fol- 
low. And  that  night  General  Lee  made  a  fatal 
mistake  when  he  did  not  complete  his  victory  and 
drive  the  Federals  from  their  stronghold,  for  by 
sunrise  the  next  morning  most  of  Mead's  men 
had  arrived,  and  the  Heights  of  Gettysburg  were 
covered  with  the  infantry  and  artillery  of  the 
great  Army  of  the  Potomac. 


The  morning  of  the  second  of  July,  1863,  broke 
over  Gettysburg,  calm  and  still;  the  sun  in  all  its 
brightness  shone  through  a  clear,  azure  sky,  ex- 
cept for  an  occasional  white  cloud  that  floated 
ominously  above,  as  if  predicting  the  terrible 
storm  of  human  wrath  that  would  sweep  over 
plain  and  hill  ere  the  sunset  flushed  the  west.  All 
night  long,  on  the  heights  above  the  town,  had 
been  arriving  the  reinforcements  of  the  Federal 
Army,  and  as  the  first  beams  of  day  gilded  with 
roseate  hues  the  Heights,  they  fell  upon  the  lines 
of  polished  steel — consisting  of  nearly  a  hundred 
thousand  men. 


306    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

In  front  of  the  National  army,  and  across  a 
small  valley — not  more  than  a  mile  and  a  half 
distant — was  formed  the  Confederate  forces,  in 
the  shape  of  an  immense  crescent,  nearly  five 
miles  in  length,  and  numbering  over  ninety  thou- 
sand men.  Viewed  by  the  Federal  soldiers  on 
the  Heights,  they  formed  a  magnificent  spectacle, 
as  their  long,  gray  lines  stood  there  in  grim  battle 
array,  with  their  bright  arms  flashing  in  the  July 
sunlight,  almost  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  while 
the  black  mouths  of  their  cannons,  that  thickly 
dotted  the  eastern  slope  of  the  hill,  frowned  omi- 
nously up  across  the  vale. 

Thus  the  two  armies  met,  on  the  second  of  July, 
in  this  magnificent  amphitheatre  at  Gettysburg,  to 
decide  the  fate  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. 

During  the  morning  there  had  been  some 
skirmishing,  but  as  the  day  wore  away  all  became 
calm.  There  was  a  balmy  sweetness  in  the  sum- 
mer air,  enhanced  by  nature's  sweet  repose.  And 
as  the  glances  of  those  on  the  Heights  fell  be- 
neath, they  were  entranced  by  the  green-leafed 
woods,  the  flourishing  orchards,  the  yellow  ripen- 
ing grain  and  the  verdant  meadows,  on  whose 
breasts  the  cattle  were  feeding,  or  lying  in  the 
shade  of  the  trees,  or  drinking  from  the  silver- 
hued  streams  that  rippled  along.  It  was  a  scene 
of  Nature's  sweet  repose,  but  soon  to  be  changed 
by  the  wrath  of  man  into  scenes  of  wild  turbulence 
and  horror,  to  fill  the  air  with  shrieks  of  agony, 
and  with  the  mighty  roar  of  destruction;  to  cover 
vale  and  hillside  with  the  mangled  bodies  of  the 
slain,  and  to  crimson  those  silver-hued  streams 
with  human  blood.  For  the  soldiers  soon  to  be 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      307 

actors  in  this  terrible  drama  of  death  were  no 
longer  the  raw  recruits  who  began  the  war,  but 
men  whom  three  years  of  experience  with  danger, 
blood  and  death  had  taught  the  awful  duties  of 
soldiers,  and  they  had  learned  those  lessons  well 
ere  this,  on  many  a  blood-stained  field ! 

Shortly  after  three  o'clock  there  fell  over  the 
field  an  awful  calm,  sublime  in  its  very  oppressive- 
ness, as,  with  bated  breaths  and  fluttering  hearts, 
the  men  of  these  two  great  armies — in  mighty, 
grand  battle  array — awaited  the  conflict! 

It  was  a  few  minutes  of  four  o'clock,  when  a 
Confederate  artillery  officer  waved  his  sword  in 
the  air,  and  as  the  blade  flashed  in  the  afternoon's 
waning  sunlight,  there  came  a  mighty  roar  from 
over  a  hundred  guns,  massed  on  the  eastern  slope 
of  the  hill.  The  cannon  balls  arched  over  the 
little  valley  and  fell  with  a  crash  on  the  sides  and 
summit  of  the  Heights,  as  they  bounded  from 
bowlder  to  bowlder.  The  next  moment  the  Fed- 
eral lines  above  were  swept  by  a  billow  of  flame, 
and  a  hundred  and  fifty  guns  hurled  back  defiance. 

The  roar  of  the  artillery  was  terrific,  the  air 
was  filled  with  solid  shot  and  bursting  shells,  and 
the  sulphurous  smoke  rolled  in  huge  volumes  over 
the  field,  while  amid  it  darted  the  red  flames  from 
the  cannons'  mouths. 

But  all  this  was  but  the  prelude  for  more  des- 
perate and  deadly  work.  Partly  under  cover  of 
the  smoke  of  their  guns,  the  Confederates  were 
seen  rapidly  forming  in  line,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
more  Longstreet's  entire  corps,  nearly  one-third 
of  the  army,  was  pressing  forward  at  the  double- 
quick  to  storm  the  Federal  position,  while  the  Con- 


308     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

federate  artillery,  with  renewed  thunder,  poured 
volley  after  volley  over  the  advancing  men's 
heads.  Down  the  slope,  three  line  deep,  the  men 
in  gray  press,  then  up  the  glacis  toward  the  Fed- 
erals they  rush,  as  their  lines  flash  with  the  fire  of 
their  rifles,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more,  with  wild 
yells  and  cheers,  they  fall  with  tremendous  and 
savage  fury  on  the  Federals. 

The  battle  now  raged  furiously,  and  every 
minute  grew  wilder  cind  bloodier,  till  at  last  it  re- 
sembled a  tempest-tossed  sea  of  destruction.  The 
Confederates  poured  a  close,  heavy  fire,  the  stone 
walls  and  ledges  literally  blazed  with  musketry, 
and  the  bullets  fell  like  showers  of  rain,  while 
over  two  hundred  cannons  dealt  forth  death  and 
destruction  on  every  side !  Thus  the  battle  raged 
all  along  the  line.  Cemetery  Ridge  was  a  sheet  of 
fire;  on  Culps  Hill  both  sides  charged  and  counter- 
charged with  demonlike  fury;  but  on  the  semi- 
circle about  Little  Round  Top  the  scene  of  blood 
and  destruction  was  grand,  terrific  and  awful! 
Every  inch  of  air  seemed  to  be  alive  with  bullets, 
balls  and  bursting  shells;  the  hillsides  were  piled 
with  dead  and  wounded,  yet  the  desperate  men 
charged  and  re-charged  across  the  blood-stained 
ground  and  vale  of  death ! 

Thus  for  more  than  two  hours  the  earth  shook 
and  trembled  as  if  an  earthquake  had  rumbled 
through  its  depths,  the  thunder  of  the  artillery, 
the  crash  of  the  musketry  was  deafening,  and  the 
sulphurous  smoke  swept  in  heavy  volumes  over  the 
field,  and,  ascending  toward  the  sky,  formed  a 
thick  canopy  above,  as  if  endeavoring  to  hide 
from  Heaven  the  scenes  of  infernal  horror  be- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      309 

neath,  and  in  the  dense  smoke  the  men  fought  as 
if  in  a  fog,  while  the  red  flames  from  the  cannons 
darted  about  amid  it,  like  wild  tongues  of  fire 
from  some  demoniacal  abyss ! 

Thus  the  tempest  of  death  and  destruction 
raged,  till  the  last  beams  of  day  faded,  and  dark- 
ness shrouded  the  field.  Even  then,  though  the 
main  body  of  the  Confederate  Army  had  fallen 
back,  yet  still  between  their  advanced  skirmishers 
and  the  Federals,  who  were  resting  on  their  arms, 
the  fire  was  almost  continuous  throughout  the 
night. 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE  CLOSE  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 

"Twice  hath  the  sun  on  their  conflict  set, 
And  risen  again,  and  found  them  grappling  yet." 

Even  as  early  as  four  o'clock  in  the  morning 
the  desultory  fire  of  the  night  increased  almost 
at  once  into  sheets  of  flame,  and  immediately  a 
terrible  struggle  followed.  Ere  long  the  con- 
testants became  so  intermingled  that  it  became 
almost  impossible  to  use  the  artillery,  for  fear  of 
killing  friend  as  well  as  foe.  As  the  battle  pro- 
gressed the  air  became  filled  with  dust  and  smoke, 
and  as  the  sun  mounted  higher  and  higher  the  heat 
became  intense.  The  Confederates  charged  again 
and  again  with  the  utmost  bravery,  but  with  little 
effect,  for  they  were  pitted  against  men  as  cour- 
ageous and  determined  as  themselves. 

Through  those  long,  early  hours  of  morning  the 
fighting  was  desperate  and  severe,  and  the  car- 


310    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

nage  was  fearful.  That  part  of  the  field  after 
the  battle  was  literally  bathed  with  blood,  and 
thickly  covered  with  the  bodies  of  the  slain — the 
blue  and  gray  uniforms  mingled  in  one  heap — 
showing  the  terrible  nature  of  the  determined 
struggle. 

Late  in  the  morning  there  was  a  short  calm  in 
the  storm  of  battle.  Then  suddenly  there  was  a 
mighty  burst  of  cheers  and  yells  from  thousands 
of  Confederates,  and  Swell's  fresh  men  rushed  up 
the  hill  and  fell  with  tremendous  fury  on  the  Na- 
tional lines.  They  met  with  a  desperate  and 
stubborn  resistance  from  the  Federals,  and  a  hand 
to  hand  struggle  followed.  But  at  last  the  Fed- 
erals were  forced  from  their  works,  and  on  rushed 
the  victorious  Confederates.  But  as  they  ap- 
proached a  stone  wall,  the  men  in  blue  of  an  entire 
division  arose  before  them  like  an  apparition,  and 
poured  upon  them  a  close,  heavy  volley.  They 
were  mowed  down  like  grain  before  the  sickle, 
and  even  these  brave  warriors  could  do  no  more 
than  retreat. 


It  was  noon,  and  the  last  sounds  of  the  conflict 
had  several  hours  before  died  away.  The  morn- 
ing sky,  which  had  been  partly  hidden  by  clouds, 
had  now  cleared,  and  the  hot  July  sun-rays  poured 
down  with  a  scorching  intensity.  There  was  a 
deep,  unbroken  silence  brooding  over  the  entire 
battle  field,  like  that  awful  calm  of  death  that 
rests  on  an  icebound  sea,  and  to  a  casual  observer 
it  seemed  as  if  the  battle  were  over.  But  it  was 
evident  to  the  Federals  on  the  heights — as  they 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      311 

waited  under  the  hot  mid-day's  sun-rays,  with 
throbbing  hearts  and  with  preoccupied  thoughts 
too  deep  for  words — that  the  Confederates  were 
making  gigantic  preparations  for  a  last,  desperate 
and,  if  possible,  crowning  effort  for  victory.  The 
Confederates  had  massed  their  artillery  on  Sem- 
inary Hill,  and  a  few  minutes  before  one  o'clock 
the  deathlike  silence  was  broken  by  the  sharp, 
ringing  report  of  a  Whitworth  gun.  It  was  the 
signal  for  the  battle.  Instantly  a  huge  sheet  of 
flame  leaped  above  Seminary  Hill,  and  the  thun- 
dering roar  of  a  hundred  and  forty^five  cannons 
filled  the  air,  while  their  mouths  poured  death  and 
destruction  into  the  Federal  lines.  The  National 
commanders  ordered  their  men  to  lie  down  on  the 
ground,  and  to  seek  every  protection  possible  be- 
hind walls,  ledges  and  bowlders.  But  in  spite  of 
every  precaution  the  destruction  of  life  was  fear- 
ful. Solid  shot,  shell,  canister  and  grape  fell 
thick  amid  the  Federals  with  deadly  effect.  Men 
and  horses  were  cut  to  pieces,  gun-carriages 
smashed,  caissons  with  their  ammunition  exploded, 
and  rocks  and  trees  shattered  to  fragments.  For 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  their  cannons  hurled  destruc- 
tion into  the  Federal  lines,  without  a  reply.  Then 
came  the  National  answer,  all  along  the  battle 
line,  from  the  fiery  mouths  of  three  hundred  guns, 
and  from  Cemetery  Hill  to  Round  Top  rolled  bil- 
lows of  flame,  like  a  sea  of  fire.  The  roar  of  the 
artillery  and  the  flash  of  fire  was  terrific,  rivaling 
in  its  grandeur  the  wildest  thunder  storms  of  na- 
ture. The  air  was  filled  with  every  form  of  deadly 
missile,  the  very  earth  shook  under  the  combat- 
ants' feet,  and  the  rocks  and  trees  waved  and 


312    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

moved  as  if  endowed  with  life,  while  the  men 
staggered  about  amid  the  concussed  air,  on  the 
trembling  earth,  as  if  intoxicated.  Thus  for  two 
hours  thundered  this  gigantic  artillery  battle — of 
over  four  hundred  guns — the  greatest  the  Amer- 
ican continent  had  ever  known,  and  one  of  the 
greatest  artillery  contests  of  the  world;  realizing, 
in  its  fierce,  wild  grandeur,  one  of  the  most  mag- 
nificent, soul-stirring  and  terror-inspiring  scenes 
of  earth ! 


PICKETT'S   FAMOUS   CHARGE 

At  the  end  of  two  hours  there  came  a  lull  from 
both  sides  in  the  terrific  cannonade,  and  imme- 
diately the  Confederates  began  forming  in  line  for 
a  final  and  desperate  charge  for  victory,  the  most 
bloody  and  determined  of  all  those  four  years  of 
war!  As  they  emerged  from  the  trees  that  cov- 
ered the  summit  of  Seminary  Hill,  and  moved 
steadily  and  firmly  down  its  slope,  with  their  lines 
dressed  as  well  as  men  on  parade,  it  was  a  mag- 
nificent sight,  and  won  even  a  thrill  of  admiration 
from  the  breasts  of  those  above.  They  were 
about  a  mile  distant  from  the  Federal  works,  and 
to  reach  them  they  had  to  descend  a  hill,  cross  a 
small  valley,  and  then  climb  a  hill.  They  num- 
bered about  18,000  men,  and  were  formed  in 
double  line  of  battle,  with  Pickett's  Veteran  Vir- 
ginians leading.  As  the  attacking  men  moved 
down  the  slope,  the  National  troops  on  the 
Heights  poured  a  heavy  artillery  fire  upon  them; 
But  forward  they  pressed,  with  a  steady  tread  and 
without  a  waver,  though  the  solid  shot  and  shell 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      313 

were  crashing  through  their  ranks  at  every  step. 
They  had  advanced  about  half-way  when  sud- 
denly their  cannons,  which  had  been  firing  over 
their  heads,  became  silent.  "What  is  the  reason?" 
exclaimed  the  men,  rushing  into  the  vortex  of 
death.  "Why?"  asked  the  Confederates  gazing 
on.  "Why?"  wondered  the  Federals  on  the 
Heights.  None  knew — not  even  General  Lee — 
till  afterward.  The  gunners  had  exhausted  their 
ammunition!  And  there,  unaided,  for  half  a  mile 
they  must  breast  alone  the  storm  of  shot  and  shell. 
But  on  they  pressed,  with  a  firm  front  and  steady 
step,  seemingly  heedless  of  every  fire  and  fearless 
of  every  foe.  The  Federals  now  opened  a  mur- 
derous fire;  the  bullets  fell  on  the  advancing 
troops  like  hail  on  a  winter's  day,  and  the  cannon 
balls,  shells  and  canister  ploughed  through  their 
ranks,  tearing  wide  gaps  in  their  front;  but  on 
they  pressed,  up  the  death-swept  slope  of  Ceme- 
tery Hill,  fearless  of  the  deadly  missiles,  and  heed- 
less of  their  comrades  who  were  being  torn  to 
pieces  by  their  sides.  As  they  advance,  it  becomes 
one  incessant  storm  of  death-dealing  volleys. 
Along  every  inch  of  their  front  reared  the  red 
crest  of  Destruction!  But  those  true  heroes, 
splashing  blood  at  every  step,  seemed  more  eager 
to  court  death  than  to  escape  danger.  As  they 
approached  the  National  line,  the  ledges  and  walls 
literally  blazed  with  a  withering  fire,  until  the  air 
along  their  front  grew  black  with  the  wings  of 
death.  But  forward  press  the  Confederates. 
"Will  no  fire,  no  loss,  drive  them  back?"  exclaim 
the  Federals. 

Before  this  terrific  artillery  and  musketry  fire 


3H    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

all  the  Confederates,  except  Pickett's  brave  Vir- 
ginians, have  melted  away — wounded,  dead,  or 
driven  from  the  field. 

The  Federal  gunners  had  now  fired  away  their 
last  round  of  canister,  and,  withdrawing  their 
guns,  awaited  the  great  struggle  between  the  op- 
posing infantry.  The  Virginians  were  now  about 
two  hundred  yards  distant,  and  for  the  first  time 
since  they  had  begun  to  face  this  terrific  storm  of 
death,  they  poured  forth  well  directed  volley  after 
volley.  The  National  troops  reserved  their  fire 
till  the  enemy  was  within  about  eighty  yards,  then 
they  poured  upon  them  a  perfect  storm  of  bullets. 
So  incessant  and  continuous  was  the  rain  of  bul- 
lets, that  it  is  said  that  the  advancing  men  turned 
their  heads  to  one  side,  like  men  facing  a  driving 
hail  storm.  But,  with  a  desperate  determination, 
onward  rush  the  brave  Virginians.  As  they  near 
the  stone  wall  they  are  met  by  a  new  danger. 
The  National  artillerymen  farther  up  the  hill 
lower  the  muzzles  of  their  guns,  and  pour  rapid 
volleys  of  canister  and  grape  through  their  ranks; 
but,  heedless  of  this,  they  rush  rapidly  forward, 
and,  vaulting  over  the  breastworks,  plant  their 
battle  flags  on  the  walls.  But  they  were  now  con- 
fronted by  a  foe  of  equal  determination  and  brav- 
ery. A  veteran  division,  that  had  passed  through 
all  the  bloody  battles  of  the  Peninsular  campaign; 
men  who  had  been  schooled  on  the  field  of  death, 
and  who  met  them  with  a  firm  resolution  to  win  or 
fall.  On  neither  side  was  there  any  shrinking, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  both  combatants  were  eager 
to  meet  in  the  desperate  struggle ! 

It  was  a  face-to-face  and  hand-to-hand  contest, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      315 

fought  with  a  desperation  akin  to  death.  So  close 
were  the  men  together  that  their  clothes  were 
burnt  by  the  exploding  cartridges.  The  Federals, 
in  their  eagerness  to  fall  upon  the  enemy,  had 
lost  their  regimental  organization,  but  each  man 
was  resolute  and  firm.  The  struggle  now  raged 
fierce  and  wild.  But  the  end  was  near.  The 
Virginians  pressed  on  every  side,  and  the  Federals 
in  their  front,  falling  upon  them  with  tremendous 
fury,  they  were  forced  back.  In  an  instant  the 
waiting  gunners  above  sprang  to  their  guns,  and 
poured  volley  after  volley  through  their  ranks. 
At  the  same  time  the  cannons  on  their  flanks  and 
in  their  rear  opened  upon  them  with  terrific  effect. 
The  Virginians  staggered,  reeled,  and  fell  in 
heaps  on  the  blood-stained  field  as  their  ranks 
were  cut  to  pieces  in  every  direction.  They  have 
fought  nobly,  like  true  heroes,  but  they  could  do 
no  more,  and  there  remained  but  one  course  for 
the  few  who  were  left — to  retrace  their  steps 
across  the  valley  of  death!  And  thus  the  curtain 
fell  on  the  disaster  of  the  master-act  of  the  great 
Confederate  General! 

General  Lee  had  watched  with  the  deepest  in- 
terest the  result  of  the  charge  of  the  brave  Vir- 
ginians, and  when  he  saw  it  fail  he  placed  his 
finger  on  his  lips,  and  for  a  moment  there  came 
over  his  noble  face  a  shadow  of  disappointment — 
that  calm,  marble-like  face  that  had  never  been 
known  before,  on  any  battle  field  of  the  war,  to 
show,  either  a  sign  of  disappointment  or  of 
triumph.  In  that  sad  moment;  he  must  have  felt 
his  disappointment  bitterly,  for,  perhaps,  he  may 
have  had  a  foreboding  of  that  future  when  the 


3i6    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

star  of  the  Confederacy  should  forever  set.  To 
an  English  officer  near  him,  who  had  come  to  wit- 
ness the  battle,  he  said:  uThis  has  been  a  sad  day 
for  us,  Colonel — a  sad  day;  but  we  can't  always 
expect  to  win  victories." 

But,  whatever  his  thoughts  were,  the  action  of 
the  great  commander  was  truly  sublime,  for,  as 
he  rode  toward  the  front  through  the  broken 
troops,  rallying  them  with  such  cheering  words  as  : 
"Never  mind,  we'll  talk  of  this  afterward;  now 
WQ  want  all  good  men  to  rally,"  his  face  was  placid 
and  cheerful,  showing  not  a  sign  of  annoyance  or 
dismay.  Even  for  the  wounded  he  had  words  of 
kindness,  and  many  of  them  as  they  were  borne 
past  took  off  their  hats  and  cheered  him.  It  was 
a  grand,  affecting  and  inspiring  scene  to  see  the 
implicit  faith  of  these  troops  in  their  commander 
as  he  moved  among  them,  and  they  formed  in 
regiments,  and  lay  down  calmly  and  quietly  in  the 
places  assigned  them. 

General  Imboden,  one  of  Lee's  staff  officers, 
for  whom  he  had  sent,  gives  us  a  touching  and 
pathetic  picture  of  the  great  Confederate  com- 
mander as  he  saw  him  soon  after  midnight,  on  the 
night  after  the  battle.  When  Imboden  reached 
him  he  was  entirely  alone,  and  had  alighted  from 
his  horse;  and,  says  that  officer,  "He  threw  his 
arms  across  his  saddle  to  rest  himself,  and  leaned 
in  silence  on  his  equally  weary  horse,  the  two 
forming  a  striking  group,  as  motionless  as  a 
statue.  The  bright  moon  shone  full  upon  his  mas- 
sive features  and  revealed  an  expression  of  sad- 
ness I  had  never  seen  on  that  fine  face  before,  in 
all  the  vicissitudes  of  the  war  through  which  Le 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      317 

had  passed.  I  waited  for  him  to  speak,  until  the 
silence  became  painful  and  embarrassing,  when, 
to  break  it  and  change  the  current  of  his  thoughts, 
I  remarked  in  a  sympathetic  tone :  'General,  this 
has  been  a  hard  day  on  you.'  This  attracted  his 
attention.  He  looked  up  and  replied  mournfully: 
'Yes,  it  has  been  a  sad  day  for  us,'  and  imme- 
diately relapsed  into  his  former  mood  and  atti- 
tude." 

After  a  few  moments  of  silence  he  turned  to 
Imboden,  as  he  raised  himself  erect,  exclaiming 
excitedly:  "General,  I  never  saw  troops  behave 
more  magnificently  than  Pickett's  division  of  Vir- 
ginians did  to-day  in  their  grand  charge  upon  the 
enemy.  And  if  they  had  been  supported  as  they 
ought  to  have  been — but  for  some  reason  un- 
known to  me  they  were  not — we  would  have  held 
the  position  they  so  gloriously  won,  and  the  day 
would  have  been  ours."  Then,  in  a  tone  of  the 
deepest  sorrow,  he  added:  "Too  bad!  too  bad!! 
oh,  too  bad!!!"  What  terrible  agony  he  felt  at 
that  moment  no  words  can  depict. 

With  this  desperate  charge  of  Pickett's  Vir- 
ginians really  ended  the  battle,  for  although  there 
was  another  attempt  on  the  Federal  lines,  it  was 
feeble  and  of  little  consequence.  The  loss  of 
the  Virginians  in  this  last  charge  had  been  fright- 
ful. Their  regiments  were  actually  cut  to  pieces. 
A  ghastly  example  was  where  a  regiment  entered 
the  charge  numbering  two  hundred  and  fifty  and 
returned  with  but  thirty-eight  men. 

Thus  for  three  weary  days  was  fought,  and  thus 
was  won,  the  great  battle  of  Gettysburg — the  most 
decisive  and  bloody  of  all  the  conflicts  of  the  Civil 


318    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

War.  And  through  that  baptism  of  blood  ol 
the  magnificent  amphitheatre  at  Gettysburg  was 
turned  the  fortunes  of  the  Confederacy,  for  al- 
though her  soldiers  struggled  heroically  for  two 
years  longer,  her  star  gradually  waned  until  it 
set  forever  on  an  April  day.  Gettysburg  was  not 
only  great,  in  being  one  of  the  bloody  conflicts  of 
the  world,  but,  like  Waterloo,  it  was  great  in  the 
greatness  of  its  results.  Waterloo  decreed  a 
change  of  dynasties,  and  rang  the  curtain  down 
forever  on  a  great  man's  colossal  ambition;  and 
Gettysburg  was  the  death  of  a  nation,  the  restora- 
tion of  another,  and  the  shattering  of  the  chains 
of  four  million  slaves! 

When  that  last  day  was  done  on  the  battle  field, 
it  was  literally  a  baptism  of  blood,  for  its  rocks 
were  sprayed  with  blood,  its  streams  and  pools 
were  crimsoned,  and  its  wheat  fields  were  beaten 
into  a  red  mire,  while  down  the  few  stalks  of  grain 
that  were  standing  trickled  tiny  globules  of  blood! 

Night  closed  over  the  scene,  but  ere  long  a  full 
moon  arose  and  shed  a  bright  light 

"O'er  the  weltering  field  of  tombless  dead." 

It  was  a  sad  and  ghastly  scene  that  the  moon- 
beams fell  upon;  for  as  thick  on  the  field  as  leaves 
in  autumn  lay  the  mangled  bodies  of  the  slain, 
while  the  ground  was  wet  and  crimsoned  with  the 
blood  of  44,567  men  who  had  fallen  dead  and 
wounded  in  that  cyclopean  contest  I 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      319 
CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

THE  STRUGGLE  WITH   DEATH. 

"Into  a  ward  of  the  whitewashed  halls, 

Where  the  dead  and  dying  lay, 
Wounded  by  bayonets,  shells  and  balls, 

Somebody's  darling  was  borne  one  day. 
Somebody  wept  when  he  marched  away, 

Looking  so  handsome,  brave  and  grand; 
Somebody's  kiss  on  his  forehead  lay, 

And  some  one  clung  to  his  parting  hand." 

At  the  open,  upper  window  of  a  house  over- 
looking, and  even  above  the  field  of  strife,  a  girl's 
beautiful,  curly  head  was  leaning  on  a  little 
dimpled  hand,  while  her  arm  rested  on  the  window 
sill.  Her  large,  lustrous  eyes  were  eagerly  watch- 
ing the  terrible  struggle  about  Little  Round  Top, 
and  as  she  rested  there  it  would  have  required 
but  a  single  glance  of  those  who  knew  her  to  have 
recognized  in  the  girl's  finely  formed  bust — as 
full  and  gracefully  rounded  as  a  sculptor's  model 
— the  demi-figure  of  Bertha  Merton.  Her  face 
was  very  pale,  but  very  beautiful,  for  there  was  a 
deep,  intellectual  interest  expressed  on  it,  and  a 
tender  sweetness  in  the  large,  liquid  eyes,  as  they 
drank  in  a  prominent  figure,  leading  amid  the 
thickest  of  the  fight — that  of  General  Charles 
Landon.  For  he  had  been  promoted  to  the  com- 
mand of  a  brigade,  a  short  time  before,  for  gal- 
lantry on  the  field. 

It  was  the  second  day  of  the  Battle  of  Gettys- 


320    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

burg.  General  Longstreet's  men  were  making 
their  terrific  charge  on  the  Federal  position,  and 
the  long  lines  of  men  in  gray  had  lapped  about 
Little  Round  Top — that  steep,  rocky  eminence 
that  towered  above  the  rest — the  key  of  the  battle 
field,  which  the  Confederates  wished  to  win,  and 
which  the  Federals  were  determined  not  to  lose. 

Around  the  rocky  height  the  battle  raged  wild 
and  furious,  the  artillery  on  its  summit  poured 
forth  a  murderous  fire,  while  behind  every  ledge 
and  bowlder  flashed  forth  the  blaze  of  musketry. 
Into  this  vortex  of  fire,  smoke  and  death  charged 
the  shadowy  lines  of  men  in  gray,  as  if  endeavor- 
ing to  choke  the  volcano  with  human  bodies.  But 
the  Federals  met  every  advance  of  the  serried 
ranks  with  a  heavy  fire  and  a  wall  of  gleaming 
steel.  Amid  the  blue  lines,  where  the  conflict 
raged  the  hottest,  rode  Charlie  Landon.  Upon 
his  pale  face  there  was  a  calm,  determined  ex- 
pression, for  his  lips  were  set,  and  there  was  a 
daring  glitter  in  his  dark  eyes  that  showed  his 
brave,  resolute  nature. 

Bertha  raised  the  spy  glass  she  held  in  her 
hand  and  swept  the  field  until  its  focus  rested  on 
Charlie  Landon's  superb  figure,  conspicuous  amid 
the  storm  of  battle  by  its  graceful,  commanding 
appearance.  And  no  wonder  the  sight  aroused 
a  thrill  of  admiration  in  her  breast,  for  his  noble 
bearing,  and  his  fine  form  and  head  clearly  out- 
lined against  the  fire  and  smoke,  would  have  won 
respect  even  from  a  foe. 

As  she  was  eagerly  watching  him  he  suddenly 
turned  his  horse  so  as  to  almost  face  her — his 
coat  was  wide  open,  for  the  heat  was  intense — 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      321 

when  to  her  dismay  she  saw  that  his  white  shirt 
front  was  half  crimson  with  his  blood. 

She  lowered  the  spy  glass,  and  there  came  a 
wild,  frightened  look  into  the  large,  dark  eyes 
that  told  of  anticipated  tragedy.  In  a  moment 
she  raised  the  small  telescope  and  gazed  eagerly 
at  his  figure,  like  one  under  the  spell  of  some 
weird  fascination,  while  in  the  velvety  depths  of 
her  eyes  there  remained  that  haunted  look  of  ex- 
pected calamity.  As  she  watched  his  conspicuous 
figure  amid  the  battle  she  saw  him  reel  in  the 
saddle,  and  fall! 

The  tragedy  she  had  anticipated  had  come,  and 
as  she  dropped  the  glass  her  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
and  the  little  head  fell  heavily  on  her  arms,  as  in 
her  sorrow  she  realized  how  dearly  she  loved 
him  still. 

In  a  few  moments  she  raised  her  head  and, 
brushing  away  the  tears  that  were  trickling  down 
her  cheeks,  sprang  quickly  to  her  feet,  as  she  mut- 
tered to  herself:  "This  will  not  do.  I  must  not 
give  way  to  grief,  when  perhaps  I  might  be  of 
assistance  to  him." 

Catching  up  a  buffalo  robe  that  lay  on  a  chair, 
she  threw  it  over  her  arm  and  hastened  from  the 
house.  She  walked  rapidly  forward,  and  each 
moment  as  she  drew  nearer  and  nearer  the  battle 
she  met  the  soldiers  bringing  away  the  wounded, 
until  those  bearing  new  sufferers  became  one  con- 
tinuous stream.  And  then  the  roar  of  the  conflict 
became  almost  deafening,  while  the  bullets  fell 
thick  about  her;  but  heedless  and  fearless  of  them, 
she  hurried  onward.  At  last  she  saw  his  well- 
known  form  lying  on  a  litter,  borne  by  two  sol- 


322    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

diers;  although  he  was  insensible,  he  still  breathed 
strong  and  regularly.  She  sprang  to  the  side  of 
the  litter,  which  was  a  rude  wooden  affair,  with- 
out any  padding  or  even  a  covering  of  cloth. 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed  as  she  stood  by  the  litter, 
"don't  those  rough  slats  hurt  him?" 

"Yes,"  replied  one  of  the  men,  "they  seemed 
to  hurt  him  severely,  for,  although  he  is  insen- 
sible, he  groaned  several  times  as  we  carried  him 
along.  But  it  was  the  best  we  could  do." 

"But  can't  we  put  this  buffalo  robe  under  him?" 
she  asked,  taking  it  from  her  arm. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  very  thing.  It  is  fortunate 
that  you  brought  it." 

They  gently  raised  him,  while  Bertha's  nimble 
little  hands  soon  placed  the  robe  beneath;  and 
as  his  bruised  body  sank  on  the  soft  bed,  she 
heard,  or  imagined  she  heard,  a  sigh  of  relief  issue 
from  his  lips.  As  he  lay  there  so  pale  and  hand- 
some on  the  white  robe — as  yet  but  slightly 
stained  with  his  blood — she,  in  spite  of  her  sor- 
row and  deep  concern,  became  irresistibly  en- 
tranced by  the  statuesque  beauty — yet  thrilled 
with  life — of  his  fine  face  and  form.  In  her  ar- 
tistic nature  she  seemed  to  realize  in  the  beautiful 
form  before  her  how  the  Greek  heroes  of  old — 
whom  Homer  loved  to  picture — must  have  ap- 
peared as  they  lay  on  the  battle  field  before  Troy. 
Those  wondrous  pictures  Homer  gives  us  in  the 
Iliad,  of  the  flower  of  the  youth  of  Greece  and 
Troy,  lying  on  the  field  of  battle  "in  the  stately 
repose  of  death,"  their  blood  enriching  in  color, 
by  its  crimson  contrast,  their  marble  white  temples 
and  blood-stained  curls  of  gold.  So  sublimely 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      323 

beautiful  does  Homer  paint  the  ancient  youth  with 
their  war-stained  curls  in  the  serene,  pathetic 
beauty  of  death,  like  some  exquisite  statue,  about 
which  the  color  of  life  still  lingers,  that  he  fascin- 
ates us,  and  almost  wins  us  to  love  wounds  and 
death.  And  as  Charlie  lay  there  among  the  soft 
folds  of  the  white  robe,  with  the  form  of  a  Greek 
hero  and  the  head  of  an  Apollo,  the  red  blood 
staining  like  a  wreath  of  carnation  the  dark  curls 
that  clustered  about  his  white  brow,  while  so 
serene  was  the  expression  of  his  face,  so  fine  and 
beautiful  the  blending  of  the  crimson  with  the 
dark  hair,  in  the  battle-stained  curls,  that  it 
brought  no  suggestion  of  horror  or  distaste  to  her 
artistic  nature,  as  she  thought,  so  must  have  ap- 
peared the  greatest  of  the  old  Greek  heroes, 
Achilles,  as  he  lay  before  the  Scaean  gate  of  Troy. 

She  was  roused  from  her  reverie  by  one  of  the 
soldiers  remarking :  uThat  robe  is  the  very  thing. 
He  rests  easily  upon  it.  Which  way  shall  we  carry 
him?" 

uTo  the  house  yonder,"  she  replied,  bursting 
into  tears. 

They  carried  him  to  the  house,  and  up  into  the 
room  she  had  left  but  a  short  time  before,  and 
laid  him  on  the  bed.  Then  the  men  departed,  but 
one  of  them  soon  returned,  accompanied  by  a 
surgeon.  Although  the  surgeon  was  young  in 
years,  he  soon  showed  that  he  lacked  neither  skill 
nor  experience,  for  he  quickly  extracted  the  bullet 
from  the  wounded  man's  arm,  and  ligated  the  sev- 
ered artery,  from  which  the  blood  was  flowing. 
He  then  turned  his  attention  to  the  wound  in 
Landon's  breast.  The  bullet  had  penetrated  pain- 


324    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

fully  near  the  heart,  and  as  Bertha  assisted  him 
to  dress  the  wound  he  replied,  in  answer  to  her 
eager  question,  "It's  a  very  dangerous  wound, 
and  he  is  very  weak  from  the  loss  of  blood.  He 
must  have  remained  for  some  time  in  the  saddle 
after  being  struck  by  the  bullets,  and  all  the  while 
the  wounds  were  bleeding.  But  while  there's  life 
there's  hope.  But  it  will  be  several  days  before 
he  regains  consciousness." 

After  he  had  applied  a  styptic  to  the  wound  and 
dressed  it,  he  said*  "Here  is  a  prescription;  get 
it  filled,  and  give  him  some  of  the  medicine  as  soon 
as  you  can  get  him  to  swallow.  I  suppose  the 
General  is  your  brother?"  he  continued. 

He  did  not  notice  the  blush  that  suffused  her 
tear-stained  cheeks,  for  he  was  gazing  down  at 
the  wounded  soldier;  and  without  waiting  for  an 
answer  he  continued,  as  an  excuse  for  his  hurry: 
"I  must  leave  him  now.  In  all  the  battles  of  the 
war  in  which  I  have  been  engaged,  I  have  never 
seen  so  many  wounded  men  before.  The  surgeons 
are  nearly  worn  out.  But,  my  little  lady,"  he 
added  kindly,  as  he  saw  fresh  tears  fill  her  eyes, 
"keep  up  a  brave  heart,  and  you  may  win  him 
back  to  health  again.  I  will  return  to  assist  you 
all  in  my  power  at  the  earliest  opportunity." 

When  the  surgeon  had  departed  her  over- 
strung nerves  could  bear  the  tension  no  longer, 
and,  leaning  her  head  upon  her  arms,  she  burst 
into  a  flood  of  tears.  And  as  she  sobbed,  she  felt 
the  old  love  for  him  come  back  with  treble  its 
former  force,  as  she  remembered  the  happy  by- 
gone days  they  had  spent  together.  "And,  oh!" 
she  thought,  "if  he  should  die,  it  would  be  the  end 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      325 

— the  dreadful  end  of  all  my  happy  dreams!'* 
After  weeping  she  felt  better,  for  her  trials  and 
sorrows  seemed  to  become  dispersed  on  the  bright 
wings  of  Hope.  For  physiologists  tell  us  that 
tears  are  nature's  remedies,  which  relieve  and 
soothe  the  nervous  system  from  overpowering 
griefs  and  burdens.  After  bathing  her  face,  she 
went  to  a  hospital  and  obtained  the  medicine. 
On  her  return  she  occupied  herself  for  some  time 
in  making  the  poor  fellow  as  comfortable  as  pos- 
sible, with  that  tender  care  that  a  woman  intui- 
tively knows  so  well  how  to  do.  Then  she  sat 
down  in  a  chair  by  a  window  as  she  felt  unreserv- 
edly that  it  was  her  duty  to  nurse  and  protect  him 
during  his  helplessness.  Her  pride  and  way- 
wardness had  fled;  she  thought  only  of  doing  all 
in  her  power  for  him,  as  she  prayed  that  God 
might  give  her  strength  to  nurse  him  back  to 
health;  and  unhesitatingly  would  she  have  risked 
her  life  to  save  his. 

What  a  mystery  and  seeming  contradiction  yet 
wondrous  power  is  woman.  Place  her  in  a  con- 
servatory, foster  and  indulge  her  every  whim,  and 
she  becomes  a  thing  of  fancy,  waywardness  and 
frivolity — annoyed  by  a  dewdrop,  fretted  by  a 
thorn,  ready  to  faint  at  the  sight  of  a  beetle  or  a 
mouse,  and  starting  back  affrighted  at  the  dark- 
ness. But  let  a  dire  calamity  come,  arouse  her 
sympathy  and  affection,  enkindle  the  fires  of  her 
heart,  and  then  behold  the  wonderful  change! 
What  a  wealth  of  affection  and  strength  is  in  her 
heart!  Transplant  her  in  a  new  field,  give  her  a 
weakly  animal  or  a  child  to  protect,  or,  on  the 
field  of  battle,  a  wounded  soldier  to  attend  and 


326    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

care  for;  see  her  then  lift  her  own  white  arms  as 
a  shield,  heedless  of  her  once  crimson  cheeks,  that 
are  growing  pale  as  she  wears  her  life  away  to 
aid  the  helpless.  Watch  her  in  the  dark  places 
of  earth,  as  she  disputes,  step  by  step,  the  march 
of  disease,  pestilence  and  death,  while  others, 
seemingly  stronger  and  braver,  shrink  away.  Si- 
lently, calmly,  nobly  she  meets  misfortune,  faces 
pain  and  danger — with  less  timidity  than  she 
formerly  met  an  admiring  gaze — and  ever  with 
consolation  in  her  heart,  and  a  blessing  on  her 
lips.  In  the  hour  of  triumph  and  splendor  she  ap- 
pears a  butterfly  of  uselessness,  but  let  adversity 
come,  then  behold  her  true  worth — a  diamond  of 
the  first  water,  freed  from  the  dross!  Thus 
woman  is  a  wondrous  mystery,  from  whom  radi- 
ates the  charm  of  the  darkest  places,  as  well  as 
the  brightest  spots  of  earth! 

As  Bertha  sat  there  in  the  afternoon's  waning 
light,  she  could  not  help  watching  his  handsome 
face  with  admiration.  And  lying  there,  he  really 
formed  a  fine  picture  of  manly  beauty,  his  face 
slightly  turned  to  one  side,  and  his  head  reclining 
lightly  on  his  arm,  which  was  half  buried  in  the 
snowy  pillow;  his  dark  hair  curling  in  a  profusion 
of  ringlets  over  his  pale  brow,  his  cheeks  plump 
and  white — where  not  browned  by  exposure;  his 
dark  brown  moustache  shading  the  mouth  and 
dimpled  chin  with  the  old,  familiar  boyish  sweet- 
ness about  them  she  remembered  so  well ;  the  col- 
lar of  his  shirt  was  rolled  back,  exposing  the 
white,  round  throat,  which  arose  gracefully  from 
the  firm,  square  shoulders,  almost  as  plump  as 
those  of  a  girl;  his  eyes  were  gently  closed,  hiding 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      327 

the  light  in  them,  which  she  had  seen  so  often  melt 
into  softness  in  the  presence  of  those  he  loved,  or 
glitter  with  daring  when  facing  a  foe;  he  breathed 
lightly,  and  seemed  to  be  resting  easily,  except 
for  an  occasional  twinge  of  the  muscles  of  the 
neck  and  shoulder,  which  showed  that  he  suffered 
pain.  Altogether,  viewed  in  the  afternoon's  sun- 
light, it  was  a  face  few  could  look  upon  and  not 
admire  and  trust.  And  there  came  into  her  heart 
an  irresistible  longing  to  possess  a  picture  of  that 
noble  face  she  loved  so  dearly,  for  she  felt  it 
would  lighten  her  sorrow  to  still  retain  the  image 
of  his  face,  although  he  should  be  taken  from  her 
forever.  She  brought  the  best  sketching  material 
she  could  find,  and  went  quietly  and  eagerly  to 
work,  and  although  she  had  done  no  artistic  work 
since  leaving  St.  Arlyle,  she  found  she  was  as  skill- 
ful as  ever  with  the  pencil  and  brush.  Seated  by 
a  small  table  in  the  waning  light  of  that  sultry 
July  afternoon,  with  the  battle  raging  so  near  that 
the  smoke  and  roar  of  the  cannon  rolled  into  the 
room,  while  the  concussion  of  the  great  guns 
shook  the  house,  she  applied  herself  diligently  in 
making  a  drawing  of  the  face  she  cherished  so 
dearly  and  feared  she  might  lose  forever. 

As  she  drew  the  outlines  of  his  face  all  the  old 
love  welled  up  in  her  heart,  and  as  she  gazed  with 
inexpressible  pity  and  emotion  upon  him,  there 
came  over  her  a  sudden  irresistible  impulse,  and, 
walking  to  the  bed,  she  knelt  by  his  side  and 
dropped  a  kiss  upon  his  lips,  as  silently  and  lightly 
as  a  dewdrop  falls,  as  she  murmured:  "Oh!  my 
poor  boy !  My  poor  boy !" 

She  drew  back  almost  affrighted  as  her  face 


328     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

grew  crimson  and  hot  with  shame,  for  she  thought 
she  saw  his  eyes  partly  open  and  his  lips  move. 
But  this  must  have  been  a  momentary  delusion, 
caused  by  her  agitation,  for  when  she  looked  again 
he  still  lay  in  the  same  unconscious  state. 

Thus  during  the  afternoon,  when  not  attending 
to  the  wounded  soldier  ,  she  occupied  herself  at 
her  drawing.  Night  came,  and  with  it  the  close 
of  the  second  day  of  the  battle,  and  her  portrait 
was  nearly  finished. 

It  was  almost  noon  the  next  day  before  she  was 
able  to  resume  her  drawing.  The  last  sounds  of 
the  conflict  had  died  away  early  in  the  morning 
and  the  warm,  sultry  air  swept  into  the  room  amid 
a  deep  silence,  only  broken  by  the  noise  of  her 
brush  or  pencil  on  the  canvas.  But  it  was  the 
calm  soon  to  be  broken  by  that  memorable  storm 
of  destruction  of  the  30!  of  July,  that  through  all 
the  after  years  of  her  life  she  never  could  forget. 

The  little  clock  on  the  shelf  had  almost  marked 
the  hour  of  one,  when  there  came  a  terrific  roar 
from  the  Confederate  guns  that  shook  the  house. 
For  nearly  fifteen  minutes  they  roared  away  with- 
out a  reply.  Then  came  the  Federal  answer,  all 
along  their  line,  from  the  mouths  of  almost  300 
cannon.  The  roar  of  the  artillery  was  fearful; 
the  house  shook  and  rocked  till  it  seemed  to  her 
like  a  ship  in  a  gale ;  the  window  panes  were  shat- 
tered to  fragments  and  the  glass  strewn  on  the 
floor;  the  table  before  her  seemed  to  dance,  while 
her  hand  seemed  to  beat  about  on  the  canvas.  She 
could  not  remain  quiet,  but  rushed  repeatedly  to 
the  window  and  gazed  out;  she  could  see  nothing 
but  the  thick  clouds  of  sulphurous  smoke,  amid 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      329 

which  flashed  the  flames  from  the  cannons' 
mouths.  From  the  window  she  repeatedly  went 
to  the  wounded  soldier's  side  and  gazed  at  his 
face,  but  he  always  lay  in  the  same  trance-like 
sleep — unconscious  of  it  all.  Thus  for  two  hours 
raged  the  terrible  storm  of  human  wrath;  then 
came  a  lull  in  the  mighty  cannonade.  Then  she 
watched  eagerly  and  excitedly  the  last  desperate 
struggle  for  victory  between  the  opposing  in- 
fantry, as  Pickett's  Virginians  charged  fiercely  and 
stubbornly  up  the  hill  amid  the  storm  of  bullets 
and  balls,  while  the  smoke  hung  about  their  partly 
hidden  ranks  like  banks  of  mist.  Thus  the  after- 
noon wore  away,  and  the  sun  sank  lower  and 
lower,  till  it  appeared  a  great  fiery  ball  in  the 
west;  then  she  saw  the  Confederates  fall  back  in 
wild  confusion,  and  she  knew  their  charge  had 
failed,  and  that  the  great  battle  of  Gettysburg  was 
ended! 

She  sat  in  silence  by  the  window  till  the  last 
beams  of  day  faded,  and  the  flashes  and  reports 
of  the  pickets'  muskets  grew  less  and  less  fre- 
quent, till  at  last  they  became  silent  in  the  gath- 
ering gloom;  then,  as  the  sentinel  stars  began  to 
fill  the  sky,  there  came  into  her  heart  a  feeling  of 
sadness — a  feeling  of  impending  grief  and  pain, 
hanging  over  her  like  a  black  pall!  Can  it  be 
possible  that  in  the  hidden  and  mysterious  work- 
ings of  the  mind,  there  came  to  her  a  premonition 
of  the  loss  and  sorrow  the  darkness  was  bringing? 
For  that  night  on  the  battle  field  she  lost  forever, 
by  a  picket's  random  shot,  one  of  the  dearest  and 
truest  friends  of  her  girlhood,  although  she  did 
not  learn  of  it  until  long  afterward. 


330    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Throughout  the  mighty  roar  of  the  battle  and 
for  weeks  after,  Charlie  Landon  remained  un- 
conscious. For  consciousness  had  entirely  left  him 
from  the  moment  he  fell  from  his  horse  while 
resisting  at  the  head  of  his  men  the  fierce  charge 
of  the  Confederate  infantry.  He  felt  the  sharp 
sting  of  the  bullet  wounds  in  his  arm  and  breast, 
but,  heedless  of  them,  he  rode  onward,  until  from 
the  loss  of  blood  he  grew  suddenly  faint  and  there 
seemed  to  dart  through  his  brain  a  thousand 
flashes  of  light,  mingled  with  a  terrible  roar,  while 
the  sun  grew  suddenly  dark,  and  he  seemed  to  be 
falling  into  an  immense  black  gulf,  and  then  con- 
sciousness left  him.  The  first  faint  revival  of 
feeling  was  followed  by  a  succession  of  dreams 
of  the  wildest  imaginable  sufferings.  He  was 
crushed  beneath  the  wheels  of  the  Juggernaut  car. 
He  was  stretched  on  the  bed  of  Procrustes,  while 
the  inhuman  Damaster  hacked  and  pulled  his 
limbs  asunder.  He  was  Tantalus,  in  water  up  to 
his  chin,  yet  unable  to  quench  his  burning  thirst. 
He  was  Tityus,  chained  to  a  rock,  while  the  vul- 
tures were  constantly  gnawing  at  his  vitals.  Then 
came  a  delightful  change  in  his  visions.  An  an- 
gelic face  hovered  above  him,  while  soft,  gentle 
hands  cooled  his  parched  lips  and  bathed  his 
burning  brow.  And  oh !  how  sweet  and  delicious 
it  all  was!  Then  the  old  horrors  would  return, 
but  ere  long  the  same  sweet,  sympathetic  face 
would  float  above  him,  and  the  same  gentle  hands, 
with  ice-cold  water,  would  quench  his  burning 
thirst  and  cool  his  aching  brow.  Once  he  thought 
the  beautiful  face  bent  down  and  kissed  him  ten- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      331 

derly.  And  then  he  thought  how  much  its  fea- 
tures resembled  Bertha's  lovely  face. 

At  last,  one  day  toward  the  close  of  August  he 
awoke  perfectly  rational.  It  was  an  exquisite 
summer  afternoon  and  the  balmy  air  swept  into 
the  room,  laden  with  the  redolence  of  tree  and 
flower,  and  he  lay  in  the  large,  cool,  airy  apart- 
ment with  a  delicious  feeling  of  pleasure  and  rest. 
As  he  turned  his  head  on  the  pillow  he  made  a 
slight  noise.  Instantly  a  girlish  figure  reading 
near  the  window  glanced  toward  the  bed,  and  then 
glided  from  the  room.  But  not  before  he  had 
recognized  the  beautiful  face  of  Bertha,  the  same 
sweet,  pitying  face  that  he  had  seen  in  all  his 
dreams. 

From  that  day  his  recovery  was  rapid.  But  he 
did  not  see  again  the  face  he  most  wished  to  look 
upon  with  the  deepest  yearnings  of  his  heart. 
And  his  first  inquiry  when  he  was  able  to  be  about 
the  room  was  for  her.  They  informed  him  that 
she  had  sailed  from  New  York  for  Rome,  there 
to  study  painting  for  the  next  two  years.  It  was 
a  bitter  disappointment  to  him,  but  he  bore  it 
bravely.  The  first  day  he  was  able  to  walk  about 
the  room  he  found  lying  on  the  table  a  dainty 
blue  gold-banded  cap  that  he  had  often  seen 
Bertha  wear.  It  had  been  presented  to  her  by 
the  wounded  soldiers  of  a  Fredericksburg  hospital 
during  their  convalescence,  as  a  tribute  of  their 
gratitude  for  her  many  deeds  of  kindness  to  them. 
He  took  up  the  cap  almost  reverently  and  placed 
it  in  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat,  as  he  thought  it 
was  the  last  memento  of  the  girl  he  still  truly  and 
tenderly  loved,  and  who  in  his  helplessness  had 


332    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

with  her  own  hands  guarded  him  from  death. 
And  he  felt  how  readily,  yea,  gladly,  would  he 
give  the  life  she  had  saved  to  prove  his  gratitude 
and  love  for  her.  "But,  alas!"  he  thought  sadly, 
"we  may  never  meet  again,  but  I  shall  love  her 
truly  as  long  as  life  remains.  May  Heaven  pro- 
tect her  and  shower  its  brightest  blessings  on  her 
curly  head!" 

When  he  ^had  gained  sufficient  strength  he 
joined  his  brigade  again,  and  followed  the  for- 
tunes of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  to  the  close  of 
the  war. 

CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

AT  REST  IN  HEAVEN. 

Virtus  reqitiei  nescia  sordidce. 

For  none  return  from  those  quiet  shores 
Who  cross  with  the  boatman  cold  and  pale ; 

We  hear  the  dip  of  the  golden  oars, 

And  catch  a  gleam  of  the  snowy  sail ; 
And  lo !  they  have  passed  from  our  yearning  hearts. 

—N.  A.  Priest. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  close  of  the  great 
Battle  of  Gettysburg;  the  dim  twilight  was  fast 
fading  into  night,  and  through  the  gathering  mist 
that  was  steadily  enveloping  the  battle  field,  the 
early  stars  twinkled  with  an  uncertain  light.  The 
main  bodies  of  the  great  opposing  armies  had 
fallen  back  to  their  camping  grounds,  and  already 
their  camp-fires  were  casting  shifting  and  fantastic 
flashes  of  light  and  shadow  on  the  banks  of  mist 
and  the  adjoining  trees.  The  advanced  pickets 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      333 

of  the  contending  forces — who  were  not  more 
than  three-quarters  of  a  mile  apart — kept  up  a 
desultory  fire  at  each  other,  as  the  red  flashes 
darting  through  the  mist,  followed  by  the  whiz  of 
bullets,  plainly  told. 

Colonel  Edward  Wilberton  was  riding  along 
the  Confederate  picket  line,  when  in  the  gathering 
gloom  he  suddenly  thought  he  saw  a  familiar 
figure  near  him,  and,  turning  his  horse,  he  rode 
toward  it.  He  was  not  mistaken,  for  it  was  his 
wife,  May,  who  had  just  arisen  from  dressing  a 
soldier's  wound  and  giving  him  a  drink  of  spirits. 
As  her  husband  approached  her  he  cried  excitedly, 
as  he  heard  a  bullet  hum  past  his  head: 

"May,  for  Heaven's  sake,  go  back!  This  is  no 
place  for  you.  You  are  recklessly  risking  your 

"But  what  will  become  of  this  wounded  man?" 
asked  the  noble  girl. 

"I  will  send  an  ambulance  to  remove  him,"  he 
answered,  as  he  sprang  from  his  horse.  And  as 
hurried  toward  her,  he  exclaimed  excitedly: 
"Hurry,  May!  You  must  not  stay  here!  I  will 
go  with  you,  but  for  my  sake  be  quick!  It  is  dan- 
gerous, my  darling!" 

The  words  had  scarcely  left  his  lips  when  she 
was  struck  full  in  the  left  breast  by  a  bullet.  But 
before  she  fell  he  caught  her  in  his  arms  as  he 
cried:  "Oh,  my  darling!" 

He  pillowed  her  head  on  his  breast  just  as  the 
warm  blood  spurted  over  her  dress,  staining  it  a 
crimson  hue.  He  hastily  tore  open  the  bosom  of 
her  dress  and  endeavored  to  staunch  the  flow  with 
his  handkerchief,  but  in  vain.  It  poured  forth, 


334    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

deluging  the  snowy  breasts  and  crimsoning  the 
golden  hair  that  had  fallen  over  her  shoulders. 

"Oh,  my  darling!  you  are  dying!"  he  cried  in 
agony. 

"Don't  feel  so  bad,  Edward,  dear,"  cried  the 
noble  girl.  "I'm  in  God's  hands  and " 

Her  head  fell  against  his  shoulder  and  the 
words  died  on  her  lips.  He  placed  his  canteen 
to  her  lips,  and  after  a  few  sips  she  rallied,  and 
throwing  her  arm  around  his  neck,  rested  calmly 
in  his  encircling  arms.  For  often,  on  the  battle 
field,  the  wound  that  is  mortal  is  painless,  and  so 
hers  seemed  to  be,  for  after  a  moment  she  raised 
her  blue  eyes,  and  looking  into  his  face  with  all 
a  woman's  tender  trust,  said: 

"Don't  cry,  Edward.  I'm  not  suffering.  And 
above  all  are  God's  everlasting  arms." 

After  a  moment's  silence  she  continued:  "I 
want  you  to  tell  Bertha  when  you  see  her,  that  my 
last  moments  were  peaceful  and  happy.  And  tell 
her  to  crush  back  her  pride  and  to  be  true  to  her 
own  heart's  love,  and  Heaven  will  bless  her." 

She  grew  rapidly  weaker,  as  she  said  with  a 
struggle:  "Good-bye,  my  boy.  Don't  feel  so 
bad.  We've  had  a  happy  life  together.  It  seems 
hard  to  go.  Yet  God's  will  be  done.  I  shall 
surely  meet  you  on  the  shining  shore  of  peace. 
Farewell!" 

"Oh,  my  darling  May,"  he  cried,  as  her  arm 
tightened  convulsively  and  passionately  around 
his  neck,  and  her  eyes  eagerly  sought  his,  with  a 
last,  wild,  loving  glance.  Then  the  little  hand  re- 
laxed its  grasp  on  his  neck  and  the  snowy  eyelids 
drooped  forever  over  the  sweet  blue  eyes.  He 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      335 

bent  his  head  quickly  and  kissed  the  red  lips,  as 
with  her  parting  breath  a  heavenly  smile  flitted 
over  them,  then  as  his  head  sank  on  her  breast, 
he  felt  the  last  throb  of  her  heart,  and  he  knew 
that  her  rosy  lips  would  never  smile  upon  him 
again,  and  that  her  sweet  blue  eyes  would  never 
greet  him  more  1 

The  mist  had  melted  away  and  the  last  rays  of 
twilight  fell  full  upon  her  dainty,  drooping  form, 
yet  beautiful  even  in  death,  and  seemingly  clinging 
to  him  just  as  she  had  clung  with  her  last  parting 
strength,  while  he  still  clasped  her  form  with  all 
the  tenderness  of  his  deep  love!  Thus  solemnly 
the  last  light  faded  and  night  enveloped  the  Penn- 
sylvania hills — and  dark  and  gloomy  it  fell  upon 
him.  In  that  long,  sorrowful  night  that  closed 
around  him,  sprang  forth  the  shadowy  spectres 
of  sweet  memories,  hopes  and  affections  that 
haunted  him  but  to  remind  him  that  they  were 
dead;  yet  at  first  he  did  not  fully  realize  his  loss. 
It  came  upon  him  by  degrees,  with  a  feeling  of 
desolation — like  one  alone  on  a  rocky  isle — that 
his  first  love,  and  that  his  brightest  hopes,  dreams 
and  wishes  were  shattered  forever!  The  night 
wore  on,  and  the  full  moon  shed  its  light  over  the 
field,  but  still  he  remained,  grasping  the  beloved 
form,  motionless,  dazed  and  bewildered,  like  one 
in  a  dream.  The  clear,  silvery  moonlight  fell  full 
upon  her  form,  where  yet  lingered  the  wondrous 
beauty  of  her  slender,  rounded  figure,  with  the 
long,  light-colored  hair,  the  beautiful  white  face, 
as  finely  moulded  as  that  of  a  statue,  the  snowy 
eyelids  fringed  by  the  long  dark  lashes,  the  fine 
cut  lips,  as  tenderly  wreathed  in  a  smile  as  if  yet 


336    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

animated  with  life,  the  throat  and  shoulders 
round  and  white,  and  the  snowy  breasts  beauti- 
fully carved  and  unmarred  in  their  whiteness,  ex- 
cept for  the  small  red  wound,  which  showed  where 
the  tide  of  life  had  ebbed  away.  Thus  unchanged, 

"Death  lay  on  her  like  an  untimely  frost, 
Upon  the  sweetest  flower  of  all  the  field." 

Long  after  midnight  they  found  him,  still  cling- 
ing to  her  dead  form.  They  bore  her  body  into 
camp,  and  he  followed,  like  one  in  a  trance.  The 
next  day  he  had  her  body  sent  away  to  be  buried 
in  the  St.  Arlyle  graveyard.  Then  with  a  broken 
and  bruised  heart  he  joined  his  regiment  again, 
and  fought  through  the  war  to  the  bitter  end.  No 
wonder  those  few  Southern  soldiers  remaining  to- 
ward the  close  of  the  war  resisted  so  stubbornly 
and  desperately  though  they  knew  their  cause  was 
hopeless,  for  by  the  loss  of  their  homes,  firesides, 
and — like  Edward  Wilberton — those  they  had 
loved  as  dearly  as  their  own  lives,  they  grew  fear- 
less and  reckless,  till  even  death  itself  had  no 
terrors  for  them ! 

CHAPTER  XL. 

NEARING  THE  END. 

"Night  closed  around  the  conqueror's  way, 

And  lightning  showed  the  distant  hills, 
Where  those  who  lost  that  dreadful  day 
Stood  few  and  faint,  but  fearless  still." 

We  now  come  to  the  closing  scenes  of  the  Civil 
War.  The  days  of  the  last  conflicts  around  Rich- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      337 

mond,  on  old  Virginia's  blood-stained  soil.  Gen- 
eral Grant's  immense  army  had  been  pouring,  day 
and  night,  for  weeks,  a  heavy  fire  with  mortar, 
cannon  and  musket  upon  the  Confederate  lines  in 
front  of  Petersburg.  When  a  Federal  fell  he  was 
replaced  by  a  recruit.  But  when  a  Confederate 
was  killed  his  place  remained  vacant.  Death,  dis- 
ease and  desertion  had  so  reduced  Lee's  army  in 
those  last  days  in  March,  1865,  that  he  did  not 
have  one  man  to  every  ten  feet  of  fortification. 
Starvation  stared  them  in  the  face,  like  a  hungry 
wolf,  for  unbolted  corn  and  black  molasses  were 
their  only  rations,  and  even  these  were  dealt  out 
to  them  in  meagre  quantities,  while  their  clothing 
was  in  rags,  and  hundreds  of  them  were  almost 
barefooted.  Grant's  great  army  gave  them  no 
rest,  and  men  who  .fought  all  day  to  save  one 
point  were  marched  all  night  to  be  ready  to  save 
another.  Tired  and  worn  out,  the  Confederate 
soldiers  fell  asleep  but  to  be  awakened  by  the 
bursting  of  shells  in  their  midst,  or  by  the  fierce 
attack  of  their  assailants.  During  their  last  long 
defense  of  Petersburg  and  Richmond,  when  it 
must  have  been  as  apparent  to  all  that  their  cause 
was  hopeless  as  it  was  to  Lee  himself,  they  strug- 
gled on  through  a  sea  of  troubles  and  hardships 
with  a  patriotism  and  devotion  that  the  world  must 
ever  acknowledge  was  truly  heroic. 

Meanwhile,  every  day  Grant's  great  army  was 
extending.its  lines  and  encircling  them  like  an  im- 
mense boa  constrictor.  And  in  the  grimness  of 
despair  the  Confederate  chieftain  resolved  to 
make  a  daring  and  desperate  effort  to  pierce  the 


338    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

mighty  Federal  army  that  was  crushing  him  in  its 
folds. 

This  daring  venture  was  an  attempt  to  pene- 
trate and  cut  the  mighty  Federal  army  through 
its  center.  The  plan  was  to  attack  Fort  Stead- 
man  (one  of  Grant's  strongest  and  most  ad- 
vanced forts)  at  night,  and  also  the  three  other 
forts  commanding  it;  then,  after  capturing  them, 
to  push  forward  and  fall  upon  the  rear  of  the 
National  army.  By  thus  surprising  the  great 
army  at  night  it  would  give  the  Confederates  a 
chance  of  success.  And  if  the  forts  were  cap- 
tured the  Federal  army  would  be  cut  in  two,  and 
thrown  into  confusion. 

A  few  minutes  before  midnight,  on  the  25th 
of  March,  the  Confederates  silently  assembled  at 
their  salient  point,  in  front  of  the  fort,  to  be 
ready  to  rush  upon  it.  Every  man  was  prepared 
and  knew  the  work  before  him.  The  open  space 
over  which  they  must  rush  could  be  swept  by  over 
thirty  Federal  cannon  and  more  than  five  thou- 
sand muskets.  Every  detail  had  been  planned, 
and  the  last  preparation  was  for  each  Confed- 
erate to  tie  a  white  cloth  around  his  arm,  so  that 
he  could  be  recognized  by  his  comrades  in  the 
dark. 

First  rushed  across  the  open  space  about  two 
hundred  men,  armed  with  axes,  who  in  five 
minutes  cut  down  the  abatis  in  front  of  the  fort. 
Had  these  men  attempted  to  cross  the  space  by 
daylight  not  one  of  them  would  have  lived  two 
minutes.  Following  these  men  came  the  storm- 
ing columns  of  infantry,  who,  after  capturing  the 
pickets,  swarmed  into  the  fort.  So  surprised  were 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      339 

the  Federals  in  the  fort  that  they  offered  no  resist- 
ance, for  when  they  sprang  to  their  feet  they  were 
confronted  by  Confederate  bayonets.  After  cap- 
turing the  fort  the  attacking  columns  pressed  for- 
ward, but  in  the  darkness  the  guides  became  con- 
fused, and  the  men  were  unable  to  find  the  works 
that  commanded  Fort  Steadman,  and  with  break- 
ing of  day  the  Confederates  were  compelled  to 
retreat  to  the  captured  works,  and  General  Gor- 
don, who  had  directed  the  assault,  made  prepara- 
tions to  hold  the  fort. 

The  moment  daylight  broke  the  Federal  artil- 
lerymen sighted  their  guns  on  the  fort,  while  at  the 
same  time  the  Confederates  trained  their  heavy 
guns  to  reply,  and  for  over  an  hour  a  terrific  ar- 
tillery contest  was  maintained.  Round  shot,  shell 
and  grape  fell  so  rapidly  into  the  fort  that  soon 
every  gun  in  it  was  silenced,  and  the  ground  inside 
was  covered  with  dead  and  wounded.  But  still 
the  Confederates  clung  to  the  fort,  and  although 
the  Federals  made  three  charges  upon  it,  they 
were  received  with  such  a  heavy  musketry  fire  that 
they  were  compelled  to  fall  back.  But  gradually 
the  mighty  Federal  army  drew  closer  and  closer, 
and  finally  an  entire  corps  prepared  to  assault  the 
fort.  There  now  only  remained  for  the  Confed- 
erates in  the  fort  either  to  await  capture  or  to 
retreat  across  the  narrow  open  space,  swept  by 
the  National  artillery  and  musketry. 

Hundreds  of  Confederates  attempted  to  escape 
by  rushing  across  the  open  space  to  their  own 
lines.  They  started  singly  and  in  numbers,  but 
however  they  started  the  result  was  the  same; 
they  were  mowed  down  by  the  storm  of  bullets. 


340    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Men  who  started  alone  would  be  struck  by  a 
dozen  bullets.  And  out  of  squads  of  thirty  or 
forty  who  started  to  cross  the  vale  of  death,  but 
two  or  three  would  escape.  Thus  for  over  an 
hour  they  endeavored  to  escape,  till  the  open  space 
was  literally  covered  with  the  dead.  These  re- 
treats gradually  weakened  the  force  in  the  fort, 
and  it  was  finally  carried  by  a  Federal  charge. 

General  Lee  had  staked  all  in  this  last  desperate 
venture  and  lost,  and  that  night  his  force  was 
weaker  by  fifteen  hundred  men.  The  cloud  that 
had  ever  hung  over  the  stormy  events  of  the  Con- 
federacy, often  growing  bright  in  the  early  days 
of  the  war,  but  to  suddenly  grow  dark  at  Gettys- 
burg, and  again  on  the  battle  field  of  the  Wilder- 
ness, had  now  grown  blacker  and  more  threaten- 
ing, till  its  heavy  shadow  told  unmistakably  of  the 
impending  end! 


In  this  battle  fell  several  of  St.  Arlyle's  men, 
and  among  them  Bertha  lost  that  night  one  of 
the  truest  and  best  friends  of  her  girlhood,  noble 
Dr.  Granville.  In  exposing  himself,  with  his  ac- 
customed bravery  wherever  the  cause  of  suffer- 
ing humanity  led,  he  sprang  conspicuously  on  one 
of  the  redoubts  to  rescue  a  wounded  soldier.  A 
perfect  storm  of  bullets  fell  around  him,  and  it 
was  the  last  time  many  of  the  men  ever  saw  his 
stately  and  well-known  form,  for  he  was  struck 
full  in  the  breast  by  a  bullet  from  a  sharp-shoot- 
er's rifle,  and  fell  mortally  wounded  into  the 
arms  of  an  officer  of  the  St.  Arlyle  regiment,  who, 
with  the  assistance  of  others,  bore  him  to  the  rear. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      341 

They  soon  found  a  surgeon,  who,  after  dress- 
ing the  wound,  recognized  in  his  patient  a  former 
friend,  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  years.  As  their 
eyes  met  the  former  exclaimed: 

uWhy,  it  is  Benjamin  Granville!  Do  you  re- 
member me?" 

"Yes,  very  well,"  replied  Dr.  Granville. 

"I  once  did  you  a  great  injury,  long  years  ago, 
and  I  have  been  sorry  for  it  many  times  since. 
Can  you  forgive  me?"  said  the  surgeon. 

"Yes,"  replied  Dr.  Granville,  ufor  I  forgave 
you  many  years  ago.  You  know  Bacon  says,  'He 
that  cannot  forgive  others,  breaks  down  the 
bridge  over  which  he  must  pass  himself.'  And 
one  of  the  noblest  lessons  I've  learned  in  life  is 
to  forgive,  and,  as  far  as  the  heart  can,  to  for- 
get, so  that  through  the  march  of  years  my  heart 
has  grown  lighter  and  more  peaceful  as  I  descend 
life's  rugged  pathway.  Thus  it  becomes  the  calm- 
est and  happiest,  just  before  the  tomb,  like  a 
flower  of  spring  time,  the  brightest  before  it 
fades." 

"What  do  you  think  of  my  case?"  Dr.  Gran- 
ville asked  suddenly. 

"It  is  a  very  dangerous  wound,"  replied  the 
old  surgeon,  as  he  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"Yes,  as  a  surgeon,  I  understand  it  full  well," 
said  Dr.  Granville.  "The  wound  is  mortal.  I 
had  hoped  to  live  to  see  peace  again.  But  I  sub- 
mit to  a  higher  will  than  mine.  It  was  my  great- 
est wish  to  see  my  country  again  at  peace.  For 
I  think  the  Republic's  grandest  glory  is  just  be- 
ginning to  dawn  through  the  vista  of  coming  years. 
For  the  brightest  years  and  noblest  are  often  those 


342    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

after  emerging  from  the  gloom  of  strife  and  care, 
like  the  bright  sunshine  that  bursts  at  last  through 
a  stormy  sky,  flooding  all  around.  And  I  still 
believe  a  republic  is  the  true  form  of  government, 
for  it  is  based  on  the  principles  of  equal  rights 
to  all,  equal  on  earth,  as  they  will  be  in  Heaven, 
rewarded  when  they  do  right,  punished  when  they 
do  wrong." 

At  that  moment  one  of  Dr.  Granville's  friends 
approached  his  bed  and  said : 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry  your  case  is  hopeless!" 

"No,  not  hopeless,"  said  the  noble  man,  "for 
I  still  have  Heaven.  And  there  is  nothing  so 
sweet  in  life  as  going  home  to  Heaven.  Tired 
with  the  struggles  of  earth,  we  lay  down  the  bur- 
den at  last,  for  the  eternal  rest.  For  God  has 
said,  'Be  thou  faithful  unto  death  and  I  will  give 
thee  a  crown  of  life.1 ' 

He  lingered  on  in  pain  until  evening,  but  no 
word  of  complaint  or  moan  escaped  his  lips,  lest 
those  around  him  in  the  hospital  tent  less  dan- 
gerously wounded  than  himself  should  hear  it  and 
feel  discouraged.  As  the  darkness  closed  around 
and  the  "cease  firing"  was  sounded  through  the 
Federal  lines,  a  smile  stole  over  his  face,  and 
those  who  were  beside  his  bed  knelt  down  to 
catch  his  dying  words.  They  were  of  the  happy, 
peaceful  years  passed  in  the  little  village  of  St. 
Arlyle,  and  in  his  thoughts  he  was  again  in  the 
college  class-room,  once  more  instructing  the  stu- 
dents, now  scattered  over  the  wide  world,  for, 
stretching  forth  his  hand,  he  said:  "It  grows 
dark,  students,  you  may  go!  But  the  glorious 
light  is  bursting  on  the  other  shore!"  Then  he 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      343 

turned  his  head  wearily  on  the  pillow,  and  the 
"light  of  immortal  beauty  silently  covered  his 
face,"  as  Benjamin  Granville  yielded  up  his  noble 
and  loving  soul  to  the  God  who  gave  it.  His 
grave  is  in  the  little  church  yard  in  St.  Arlyle,  and 
over  it  stands  a  marble  monument,  but  his  great- 
est tomb  is  in  the  hearts  of  the  men  and  women 
who  loved  him  too  truly  ever  to  need  a  marble 
shaft  to  remind  them  of  the  noble,  generous  man ! 

Bertha  read  of  his  death  in  Rome  in  an  article 
in  an  American  journal  entitled,  "A  Great  Loss 
to  Science."  And  tears  filled  her  eyes  as  she  real- 
ized that  in  his  death  she  had  lost  another  of  the 
truest  and  noblest  friends  of  her  girlhood's  years. 
And  as  she  sat  in  the  waning  light  by  the  window 
overlooking  the  waters  of  the  Tiber  there  arose 
through  the  mist  of  her  tears  a  sea  of  familiar 
faces,  all  victims  of  the  terrible  Civil  War,  and 
each  intimately  linked  with  her  own  life,  some 
cherished,  others  dearly  beloved.  One  of  them 
was  that  of  a  dark-haired  boy,  who  fell  in  the 
early  days  of  the  war,  on  the  picket  line  along 
the  Potomac  River,  with  a  bullet  through  his 
brave  young  Irish  heart.  She  remembered  well 
when  they  bore  him  into  camp,  with  the  night  dew 
still  fresh  on  his  young,  pale  face,  and  buried  him 
in  a  soldier's  grave,  with  a  wreath  on  his  breast — 
a  tribute  from  her  own  hands. 

And  another — a  man's  face,  who  received  his 
mortal  wound  on  the  battle  field  of  Chancellors- 
ville;  one  who  had  been  wild  and  wayward,  and 
at  times  even  wicked,  but  who,  ere  his  heart  was 
stilled  forever,  had  found  the  perfect  faith  and 
peace. 


344    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

And  still  another — a  sweet,  girlish  face,  with 
bright  blue  eyes  and  sunny  hair,  who  died  with 
a  bullet  through  her  pure  young  heart,  on  the  field 
of  Gettysburg.  "Ah,  my  darling  May,"  Bertha 
murmured,  uhow  little  did  I  think  when  we 
wandered  together  through  the  shady  lanes  and 
over  the  green  meadows  of  St.  Arlyle,  and  past 
the  little  church  yard,  that  you  would  meet  your 
death  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  that  your  final 
resting  place  would  so  soon  be  there.  Sweet, 
calm  and  pale  your  face  must  have  appeared  when 
you  met  the  end,  with  kind  thoughts  and  wishes 
for  others,  even  in  the  throes  of  death,  like  that 
noble  man's  face,  peaceful  and  calm,  for  he  feared 
not  death.  So  will  your  faces  appear  on  the  shore 
of  the  great  Hereafter,  if  I  am  permitted  to  see 
them  there,  only  far  nobler  yet,  with  the  halo  of 
immortal  beauty  around  your  heads !" 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

THE   DAWN  OF   PEACE. 

O  beauteous  peace! 

Sweet  union  of  a  state !  what  else  but  thou 
Gives  safety,  strength,  and  glory  to  a  people? 

— Thompson. 

On  all  human  events,  at  some  period  the  cur- 
tain falls,  and  the  play  is  over;  so  we  now  come 
to  the  last  act  in  the  bloody  drama  of  the  great 
Civil  War.  Even  the  Confederates  knew  the  end 
was  coming  fast.  For  the  shadows  were  already 
gathering  darkly  that  were  soon  to  envelope  the 
last  faint  ray  of  hope!  The  shattered  Army  of 


(A  Village  Mystery  and 
Through  War  to  Peace) 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       345 

Northern  Virginia,  now  reduced  to  less  than  eight 
thousand  men,  had  fallen  back  to  the  little  town 
of  Appomattox.  The  Confederate  troops  were 
almost  in  a  hopeless  condition,  their  strong  works 
in  front  of  Fredericksburg  captured,  their  lines 
of  retreat  and  communication  severed  by  their 
being  driven  upon  the  peninsula  formed  by  the 
James  and  Appomattox  rivers,  while  in  their  front 
the  great  Federal  army  was  closing  upon  them 
in  the  form  of  a  mighty  semicircle,  yet,  in  the 
grimness  of  despair,  that  fragment  of  the  once 
proud  Army  of  Northern  Virginia,  like  a  dying 
lion  at  bay,  still  now  and  then  makes  the  foe  feel 
the  sharp  sting  of  its  claws,  and  still  tosses  its 
royal  head  in  defiance. 

It  was  scarcely  daylight  on  the  morning  of  the 
9th  of  April — the  day  that  is  to  decide  the  fate 
of  Lee's  army — but  already  the  roar  of  the  can- 
non announces  that  the  battle  has  begun.  As  the 
sun  mounts  higher  the  roar  of  the  guns  grows 
louder,  and  the  battle  becomes  more  and  more 
general.  And  as  the  serried  ranks  of  the  great 
semicircle  approach  the  Confederates,  they  catch 
in  the  distance  through  the  trees  and  underbrush 
an  occasional  glimpse  of  Sheridan's  cavalrymen  as 
they  close  upon  the  foe!  But  the  Confederates 
attack  the  cavalry  savagely,  and  as  they  drive  it 
back,  a  cheer  bursts  from  their  ranks,  but  in  a  few 
minutes  more  their  exultation  is  changed  to  de- 
spair, for  they  see  that  the  cavalry  is  but  falling 
back  upon  the  heavy  masses  of  infantry  and  ar- 
tillery that  form  the  mighty  semicircle  that  is  ad- 
vancing to  envelope  them  like  the  irresistible  hand 
of  Fate !  Rapidly  the  Federal  troops  dash  over 


346    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

swamp  and  stream,  with  the  wildest  excitement, 
for  they  know  that  unless  the  enemy  can  break 
through  their  lines  within  fifteen  minutes  all  is 
over  with  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia.  As 
the  great  semicircle  closes  about  the  Confederates 
the  battle  rages  all  along  the  line,  while  the  sky 
becomes  ablaze  with  flame  as  the  cannons  and 
mortars  hurl  forth  their  shot  and  shell! 

Suddenly  two  horsemen  gallop  out  from  the 
Confederate  line,  and  one  of  them  waves  a  flag 
of  truce,  while  the  other — heedless  of  the  storm 
of  bullets  and  balls — rides  rapidly  across  the  open 
space,  and,  as  he  gracefully  salutes  the  Federal 
commander,  he  says: 

"Sir,  General  Longstreet  desires  a  cessation  of 
hostilities  until  he  can  hear  from  General  Lee,  as 
to  a  proposal  of  surrender." 

Immediately  the  fire  slackens  on  both  sides,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  more  the  order  is  sounded  along 
the  Federal  line  to  "cease  firing"  and  to  halt. 
The  die  is  cast!  The  end  has  come! 

A  truce  is  agreed  upon  until  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon.  Four  o'clock  comes,  but  no  word  is 
heard  from  either  of  the  great  commanders,  and 
there  is  no  alternative  left  but  to  renew  the  battle, 
as  the  order  is  issued  along  the  Federal  lines: 
"Prepare  to  make  or  receive  an  attack  in  ten 
minutes."  The  ten  minutes  elapse,  and  the  Fed- 
eral skirmishers  are  pressing  forward,  when  sud- 
denly comes  the  order  to  halt,  and  with  it  the  in- 
formation that  Lee  has  surrendered.  Instantly 
the  Federal  lines  are  broken,  and  cheer  after  cheer 
rends  the  air  until  late  in  the  night. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  of  that  day — the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       347 

of  April,  1865 — an  officer,  accompanied  by  but  a 
single  aid,  rode  out  of  the  Confederate  camp  to- 
ward the  Federal  lines.  He  was  mounted  on  a 
powerful  gray  horse,  and  wore  a  spotless  gray 
uniform,  that  fitted  his  large  and  finely  moulded 
figure  to  perfection,  while  on  the  collar  of  his  coat 
glittered  the  stars  of  the  highest  rank  of  the  Con- 
federate Army.  There  was  a  natural  dignity  and 
modest  reserve,  blended  with  a  singular,  calm 
gentleness  about  his  every  action  that  would  win 
from  the  most  casual  observer  respect,  even  ad- 
miration. His  hair  was  as  white  as  the  driven 
snow,  his  face  was  very  pale,  and  there  was  a 
deep  expression  of  sadness  upon  it,  yet  blended 
with  a  rare  charm  of  sweetness  and  intelligence; 
his  brow,  thoughtful  and  grave,  was  tinged  with 
the  shadows  of  care  and  sorrow,  while  his  bright 
eyes  lighted  up  his  face  with  a  singular  fascina- 
tion one  could  not  soon  forget;  but  that  which 
would  have  most  attracted  one's  attention  was  the 
calm  expression  of  power  and  determination,  so 
indelibly  imprinted  there  that  it  seemed  nothing 
in  life  could  shake.  Altogether  it  was  an  intel- 
lectual face  of  a  man  of  rare,  magnetic,  com- 
manding power  and  penetrating  judgment. 

As  he  approached  a  Confederate  outpost  the 
soldier  saluted  and  the  officer  bowed  with  a  cold 
smile  that  rendered  his  face  even  more  sad. 
When  he  had  passed  one  of  the  soldiers  ex- 
claimed: "It  is  General  Lee,  going  to  surrender 
the  army!" 

"Yes,"  replied  another,  "and  I  tell  you  it's  a 
hard  duty  for  him  to  perform." 

On  reaching  the  house  where  the  terms  of  sur- 


348    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

render  were  to  be  arranged,  General  Lee  and 
his  aid,  Colonel  Marshall,  dismounted  and  en- 
tered a  small  room  in  the  left  corner.  It  was  an 
old  styled,  double  house,  with  a  piazza  extending 
across  the  front,  and  was  known  as  the  McLean 
house.  In  the  small  room  where  the  interview 
took  place  were  gathered  several  officers,  and 
among  them  were  two  young  men  seated  at  a 
table,  reducing  to  writing  the  terms  of  the  sur- 
render of  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia  to  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac.  One  of  the  young  men, 
Colonel  Marshall — a  great-grandson  of  Chief 
Justice  Marshall — was  acting  on  behalf  of  Gen- 
eral Lee;  the  other,  a  man  with  a  dusky  coun- 
tenance— a  grand-nephew  of  the  celebrated  In- 
dian chief,  Red  Jacket — was  acting  under  Ulysses 
S.  Grant. 

At  a  short  distance  apart  and  facing  each  other 
sat  two  remarkable  men;  remarkable  for  having 
been  the  chief  actors  in  the  great  Civil  War.  The 
larger  and  elder  of  the  two  was  the  more  impres- 
sive in  his  appearance.  His  face  pale  and  mas- 
sive— seemingly  with  an  expression  of  calm  in- 
difference upon  it — was  surrounded  by  a  mass  of 
snow  white  hair.  There  was  not  a  spot  upon  his 
bright  gray  uniform,  and  the  gauntlets  which  he 
wore  were  as  white  and  unsullied  as  a  lady's 
glove.  He  was  fully  equipped  with  sword,  belt 
and  sash.  That  was  General  R.  E.  Lee.  The 
other  was  a  smaller  man,  with  a  remarkably  de- 
termined face,  but  on  which  there  was  now  a 
peculiar  expression,  like  that  on  a  man's  counte- 
nance who  is  endeavoring  not  to  give  pain,  but 
seems  at  a  loss  how  to  avoid  it.  In  his  dress  he 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      349 

contrasted  strongly  with  Lee;  his  boots  were  al- 
most covered  with  mud,  his  uniform,  the  coat  of 
which  was  minus  several  buttons,  was  splashed 
with  spots  of  earth,  and  he  r/ore  no  sword,  belt 
or  sash.  Altogether,  he  looked  like  a  soldier 
who  had  just  returned  from  a  rough  campaign. 
That  was  Ulysses  S.  Grant,  the  victor. 

The  greeting  between  the  two  commanders, 
though  short,  was  courteous,  even  kind,  and  they 
immediately  proceeded  to  business.  It  was  a  great 
and  thrilling  occasion,  and  wonderful  memories 
must  have  crowded  upon  those  two  men  as  they 
sat  face  to  face.  Memories  that  must  have 
thrilled  their  hearts  as  their  thoughts  wandered 
back  to  those  stirring  scenes  during  those  four 
years  of  Civil  War,  when  brothers'  swords  were 
wet  with  brothers'  blood,  and  in  which  they  had 
been  the  leading  actors  on  the  opposing  sides. 
And  now  at  last  the  end  had  come,  and  they  had 
met  together  to  sheath  their  swords  in  peace  and 
drop  the  curtain  forever  on  one  of  the  most  re- 
markable and  bloody  dramas  of  the  Nineteenth 
Century! 

In  that  little  room  there  fell  a  death-like  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  scratch  of  the  secretaries'  pens 
upon  the  paper,  for  all  felt  the  overpowering  in- 
fluence of  the  great  scene  they  were  witnessing. 
The  silence  was  so  deep  and  continuous  that  at 
last  it  became  embarrassing,  and,  to  break  the 
spell,  General  Grant  said,  apologetically,  as  he 
noticed  the  fully  equipped  and  faultless  appear- 
ance of  Lee,  contrasting  vividly  with  his  own  neg- 
ligent dress  and  absence  of  arms: 

"General  Lee,  I  have  no  sword;  I  have  been 


350    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

riding  all  night.  I  do  not  always  carry  a  sword, 
because  a  sword  is  sometimes  a  very  inconvenient 
thing." 

Lee  made  no  reply,  but  in  a  formal,  almost 
haughty  manner,  bowed  with  a  grace  and  pride 
that  after  all  became  him  so  well.  Again  the  si- 
lence fell,  seemingly  deeper  and  more  embarrass- 
ing than  before.  When  again,  to  relieve  the 
awkwardness  of  the  occasion,  General  Grant 
asked : 

"General  Lee,  what  became  of  the  white  horse 
you  rode  in  Mexico?  He  might  not  be  dead  yet; 
he  was  not  so  old." 

Lee  bowed  in  the  same  formal  manner,  as  he 
replied : 

"I  left  him  at  the  White  House  on  the  Pamunky 
River,  and  I  have  not  seen  him  since." 

At  last  the  secretaries  had  reduced  to  writing 
the  terms  of  the  surrender,  when  the  two  com- 
manders signed  the  instruments,  after  which  there 
was  a  whispered  conversation  between  Grant  and 
Lee,  which  no  one  else  but  the  two  great  chieftains 
heard.  Then  General  Lee  arose  in  that  stately 
pride  that  seemed  a  part  of  the  man,  and  bowed 
separately  to  each  officer  on  the  Federal  side. 
Then,  turning,  he  left  the  room,  and  striding  down 
the  garden  in  front  of  the  house,  bestrode  the  gray 
horse  that  had  carried  him  through  all  the  Vir- 
ginia campaigns,  and  rode  away. 

When  Lee  had  left  the  room  Grant  called  his 
officers  about  him  and  then  they  learned  the  im- 
port of  the  whispered  conversation,  as  the  Federal 
chieftain  said: 

"General  Lee's  army  is  on  the  point  of  starva- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      351 

tion,  and  we  must  assist  them  all  we  can.  You," 
he  said,  naming  an  officer,  "go  to  the  Fifth  Corps, 
and  you  to  the  Twenty-fourth,"  thus  naming  every 
corps,  "and  ask  every  man  who  has  three  rations 
to  turn  over  two  to  the  Confederates.  Go  to  the 
commissaries  and  the  quartermasters  and  tell 
them  to  send  all  the  food  they  can  spare." 

The  orders  were  quickly  obeyed,  and  before 
night  25,000  rations  were  carried  to  the  Army  of 
Northern  Virginia. 

As  General  Lee  rode  slowly  back  in  silence 
there  gradually  mingled  with  the  deep  sadness  on 
his  face  a  far-away  expression,  as  if  his  thoughts 
were  wandering  to  other  scenes  in  that  bloody 
drama,  in  which  he  had  acted  such  a  prominent 
part,  and  no  words  can  express  the  humiliation 
that  proud  nature  must  have  felt,  as  he  met  face 
to  face  the  bitter  end  of  all  his  hopes. 

When  early  in  the  afternoon  Lee  had  been  seen 
riding  toward  the  McLean  house  the  rumor  of 
the  surrender  flew  rapidly  through  the  Confeder- 
ate camp.  And  when,  about  3  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon, he  was  seen  slowly  and  thoughtfully  riding 
back,  it  was  known  that  the  terms  of  surrender 
had  been  completed.  Reaching  his  headquarters 
he  called  his  officers  about  him  and  explained  to 
them  the  terms  of  the  surrender.  On  hearing 
them  they  expressed  their  entire  satisfaction  at 
his  course.  The  lines  of  battle,  which  had  been 
drawn  up  awaiting  a  possible  renewal  of  the  con- 
flict, were  then  broken,  and  eagerly  the  men 
crowded  around  their  chief  to  clasp  his  hand.  It 
was  a  touching  scene  as  they  crowded  around  their 
old  commander — under  whom  they  had  fought  on 


352     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

many  a  bloody  field  for  four  long  years — and  ex- 
pressed their  love  and  confidence  in  him  still. 
Many  of  their  eyes  were  moist  as  they  shook  his 
hand  and  felt  they  were  parting  forever  from 
their  beloved  chieftain.  Sad,  indeed,  it  was  for 
those  proud  men  to  hear  that  they  could  do  no 
more,  but  furl  their  colors  forever  and  go  back 
to  their  shattered  homes  again;  but  in  their  simple 
words  and  actions  there  was  something  grand  and 
noble,  and  their  commander  felt  that  there  was 
no  need  of  words  of  explanation,  or  vain  regrets 
to  such  heroic  men,  as  he  said  simply,  while  over 
his  face  came  almost  a  womanly  tenderness: 

uMen,   we  have   fought  through  the  war  to- 
gether, and  I  have  done  the  best  I  could  for  you." 


On  the  1 2th  of  April  the  Army  of  Northern 
Virginia  had  its  last  review,  and  as  early  as  five 
o'clock  on  that  morning  a  Federal  division,  under 
General  Chamberlain,  was  formed  in  line  of  battle 
to  receive  the  surrender  of  the  arms  and  colors  of 
the  Confederates.  The  Federal  line  was  nearly 
a  mile  in  length,  extending  from  the  river  bank 
along  the  streets  of  the  village,  almost  to  the  court 
house.  As  they  stood  there  they  saw,  through 
the  morning  mist,  the  Confederates  breaking 
camp,  and  then  slowly  and  reluctantly  forming 
ranks  for  the  last  time.  Then  the  Southern  men 
wheeled  into  column  of  march  and  moved  for- 
ward, with  their  battle  flags,  the  stars  and  bars, 
flying.  First  came  General  Gordon,  with  Stone- 
wall Jackson's  corps,  then  Longstreet's  corps, 
commanded  by  Heath.  As  the  head  of  the  Con- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      353 

federate  column  arrived  opposite  the  Federal  right 
the  bugle  sounded,  and  the  National  troops  pre- 
sented arms,  while  their  officers  saluted.  The 
Confederate  commander,  General  Gordon,  notic- 
ing this  courteous  recognition,  also  brought  his 
men  to  a  present  and  saluted  with  his  sword.  Then 
the  Confederates  wheeled  into  line  of  battle,  and 
the  two  former  contending  armies  stood  facing 
each  other  in  peace  for  the  first  time  and  the  last! 

Amid  not  the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  nor  the  roll 
of  a  drum,  but  in  a  stillness  as  if  the  dead  were 
passing  there,  the  Southern  soldiers  stepped  for- 
ward in  squads  and  stacked  their  arms  and  took 
off  their  cartridge  boxes  and  placed  them  in  heaps. 
And  last  of  all,  they  furled  their  battle  flags,  and 
as  they  laid  them  in  the  dust — the  colors' they  had 
risked  their  lives  so  often  to  defend — they  knelt 
down  and  kissed  them,  while  their  eyes  filled  with 
burning  tears.  It  was  a  touching  scene,  and  many 
a  heart  was  full,  even  on  the  Federal  side.  Then 
only  the  stars  and  stripes  waved  over  the  field. 
Thus  throughout  the  day  the  men  of  division  after 
division  marched  forward  and  surrendered  their 
arms,  then  after  they  had  given  their  word  of 
honor  never  to  take  up  arms  against  their  country 
again,  they  were  set  at  liberty.  Meanwhile,  dur- 
ing that  entire  day  not  a  cheer,  not  a  taunt,  not 
even  a  whispered  boast  of  vain  glory  escaped  from 
a  single  Federal  soldier.  For  there  came  over  the 
victors  a  tender  feeling  of  almost  brotherly  friend- 
ship for  their  former  foes,  as  they  felt  they  were 
fellow  soldiers  and  fellow  countrymen  at  last! 

In  this  last  closing  scene  General  Grant  was  not 
present,  and  with  a  tenderness  that  will  ever  be 


354    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

remembered  by  those  vanquished  men,  he  spared 
everything  in  his  power  that  would  wound  their 
feelings,  or  that  tended  to  imply  the  humiliation 
of  a  conquered  foe.  But,  on  the  contrary,  he  re- 
ceived the  surrender  of  the  Southern  men  with  a 
kind  recognition  that  they  were  soon  to  be  friends 
and  countrymen  again.  Nor  did  General  Grant's 
magnanimity  end  here,  for  he  insisted  that  the 
private  property  of  the  Confederates  should  be 
respected,  though  the  public  property  of  the  South- 
ern army  should  be  surrendered.  And  when  asked 
if  they  should  surrender  their  horses,  he  answered, 
"No,  tell  them  to  keep  them !  they  will  need  them 
to  plow  their  farms." 

The  Confederates,  after  having  surrendered 
their  arms  and  accoutrements,  and  taking  the  oath 
of  allegiance,  were  allowed  to  roam  at  will.  Then 
followed  a  remarkable  scene,  rarely,  if  ever,  wit- 
nessed in  the  world's  history  before,  victor  and 
vanquished  mingled  in  one  great  fraternal  friend- 
ship, while  the  Federals  divided  with  them  their 
food,  tobacco,  etc.  It  was  truly  a  wonderful  scene 
of  forgiving  and  forgetting. 

There  was  one  knot  of  soldiers  collected  near 
the  right  of  the  field,  who  would  have  especially 
attracted  one's  attention  by  their  unusual  jollity 
and  good  fellowship.  And  it  needed  but  a  single 
glance  of  the  beholder  to  tell  that  they  were 
former  members  of  the  Vandal  club.  Some  were 
in  blue  uniforms,  others  in  gray,  but  national  dif- 
ferences had  no  effect  on  their  hilarity  and  friend- 
ship. In  their  midst  stood  Tom  Gleaton,  dis- 
tributing the  food  in  his  knapsack,  and  at  the  same 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       355 

time  discussing  the  edible  qualities  of  sawdust 
pudding. 

"Well,"  said  a  Vandal  in  gray,  in  answer  to  a 
question  from  Gleaton,  "you  know  for  the  last 
two  months  we've  been  pretty  hard  up  for  food, 
in  fact,  we  haven't  had  any  at  all.  And  the  pangs 
of  starvation  have  a  very  trying  effect  on  a  fel- 
low's ingenuity,  so  when  we  came  to  an  old  saw 
mill,  we  resolved  to  make  some  sawdust  pudding. 
We  got  some  sawdust,  stirred  it  up  with  water, 
put  in  some  sugar,  and  baked  it  over  a  camp  fire." 

"Well,  how  did  it  eat?"  asked  Gleaton. 

"It  was  a  pretty  tough  dose.  Little  better  than 
leather  soup,  but  still  it  was  better  than  nothing!" 

At  this  moment  the  little  group  was  joined  by 
General  Landon,  who,  after  he  had  shaken  hands 
with  the  Vandals  in  gray,  distributed  the  food  in 
his  small  bag  among  them,  which  was  eagerly  de- 
voured. 

"But,"  said  Landon,  in  answer  to  their  com- 
plaints, "didn't  you  have  any  meat?" 

"Oh,  once  in  a  while  we  killed  a  mule,  and  I 
tell  you  it  is  wonderful  how  such  small  bits  of 
meat  stood  so  much  chewing!" 

At  this  juncture  the  men  in  gray  were  joined 
by  a  terrible  hungry-looking  African,  who,  at- 
tracted by  General  Landon's  bright  shoulder 
straps,  poked  a  Vandal  in  the  back  and  whispered 
in  his  ear: 

"Ax  de  General  if  he  has  food  of  any  descrip- 
tion 'bout  his  pusson." 

"Hush  up,  Sambo,"  replied  the  Vandal,  "do 
you  think  the  General's  a  traveling  cook-shop?" 


356    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"But  he  mought  have  a  little  extra  bacon?"  sug- 
gested the  darkey. 

uHush  up,"  said  another  Vandal,  "you're  al- 
ways hungry." 

The  negro's  pantomimic  motions  had  not 
escaped  Gleaton's  observation,  who  said  to  Lan- 
don,  "he's  a  terrible  hungry  looking  African.  The 
personification  of  starvation.  I  can  tell  by  the 
drop  of  his  under  jaw." 

"How  about  the  size  of  his  mouth?"  suggested 
Landon. 

"A  fine  opening  for  provisions." 

General  Landon  had  sent  for  a  quantity  of 
food,  which  now  arrived,  and  the  negro  eagerly 
stepped  forward  to  participate  in  the  feast. 

"Hold  on,"  said  Landon,  with  a  merry  twinkle 
in  his  eye,  "you're  an  enemy,  and  it's  against  the 
laws  of  war  to  feed  an  enemy." 

"I  wuz,  Massa  General,  but  golly,  Fze  loyal 
'nough  now." 

"Well,  then,  we'll  have  to  feed  you." 

And  soon  the  negro  was  devouring  the  food 
with  great  gusto,  as  he  rolled  the  whites  of  his 
eyes  about. 

A  Vandal  in  gray  was  cutting  the  rind  off  some 
bacon,  when  a  pompous  officer  of  the  commissary 
general's  staff,  passing,  exclaimed:  "Young  man, 
it  has  been  customary  heretofore  to  eat  bacon  rind 
and  all." 

"All  right,  old  man,"  replied  the  Vandal,  amid 
a  roar  of  laughter,  "I'm  cutting  it  off  for  you!" 

After  the  Vandals  in  blue  and  gray  had  shaken 
hands  all  around  they  parted  with  the  best  of  feel- 
ings toward  each  other,  as  Gleaton  said,  "Now 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       357 

we'll  forgive  past  animosities,  and  sheath  the 
sword,  bury  the  hatchet,  close  the  temple  of  Janus, 
furl  the  battle  flag,  smooth  grim  visaged  war's 
wrinkled  front,  extend  the  olive  branch " 

"And,"  added  Landon,  "smoke  the  calumet  of 
peace." 

"Thank  you  for  the  suggestion,"  replied  Glea- 
ton,  "and  if  any  of  you  don't  happen  to  have  a 
calumet  about  your  person,  a  clay  pipe  will  answer 
all  practical  purposes  just  as  well." 

"Here  she  is,"  said  a  Vandal,  pulling  out  a 
short,  black  pipe. 

Leaving  the  St.  Arlyle  group  General  Landon 
walked  down  the  Confederate  line,  eagerly  scan- 
ning every  knot  of  men  in  gray.  At  last  his  face 
lighted  up  with  an  unusual  interest  as  he  caught 
sight  of  Ned  Wilberton,  the  object  of  his  search, 
and  hurried  toward  him.  As  the  two  friends  met 
for  the  first  time  since  the  commencement  of  the 
war  they  clasped  hands  in  silence,  with  hearts  too 
full  for  words.  Landon  was  the  first  to  break 
the  silence,  as  he  said  sympathetically: 

"This  is  a  sad  ending  for  you,  my  dear  fellow! 
And  I  am  sincerely  sorry  for  you,  but  perhaps  it 
is  for  the  best." 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Wilberton  sadly.  "But  I  can't 
say  so  yet.  But  I  hope  some  time,  with  God's 
help,  to  be  able  to  do  so.  But  my  heart  is  too 
full  of  sorrow,  and,  I'm  afraid,  of  bitterness  also, 
to  say  so  now.  Yet  I  know  it  is  the  duty  of  a  sol- 
dier and  of  a  true  man  to  bear  no  enmity  against 
his  former  foe.  Yet  you  know  all  it  has  cost  me; 
more  than  my  country,  the  life  of  her  I  held 
dearer  than  my  heart's  blood.  But  I  know  it 


358    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

would  be  her  wish,  if  she  were  living,  to  speed 
the  day  of  peace  and  friendship  between  the 
North  and  South,  and  so,  with  God's  help,  I  shall 
try  and  fulfill  her  wish,  on  my  humble  part." 

"Heaven  bless  you,"  said  Landon,  uand  help 
you  to  bear  your  trials  and  afflictions.  I  know  her 
death  was  a  terrible  blow  to  you,  for  she  was  as 
noble  a  girl  as  ever  lived!" 

After  a  short  conversation  the  two  friends 
parted,  with  hearts  too  full  to  longer  trust  them- 
selves in  each  other's  presence. 

As  General  Landon  walked  onward  he  came  to 
a  clump  of  bushes  in  which  a  number  of  soldiers 
were  collected.  And  there  he  saw  one  of  the  most 
touching  sights — in  its  very  pathetic  sweetness — 
of  all  the  sad  scenes  of  war — the  dead  form  of  a 
little  drummer  boy  of  wondrous  beauty.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  full  blue  uniform,  and  as  he  lay  he 
appeared  like  a  dethroned  statue  of  an  Apollo. 
His  face  was  as  beautiful  as  a  god's  and  as  fair 
and  delicate  as  that  of  a  girl;  his  right  arm 
grasped  his  drum  and  his  left  rested  gently  across 
his  breast.  He  seemed  rather  as  if  sleeping  than 
dead.  Kneeling  beside  him  was  another  little 
drummer  boy  in  gray — no  larger  than  the  other — 
endeavoring  to  pour  water  from  a  canteen 
between  the  white,  cold  lips,  but  his  efforts  were 
vain,  for  the  little  fellow  had  been  dead  for  an 
hour  or  more. 

It  was  a  wonderfully  affecting  scene  in  its  pure, 
tender  pathos,  and  grim  old  warriors'  eyes  were 
wet,  that  had  not  been  moist  before  for  years. 

After  gazing  in  silence  for  several  moments  at 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       359 

the  touching  scene,  General  Landon  said,  as  his 
voice  grew  husky  with  emotion : 

"It  is  a  sad  sight,  yet  a  beautiful  omen  of  the 
lasting  peace  of  the  Republic,  for  it  portends  that 
the  rising  generation  are  forgiving  and  forget- 
ting, ere  the  sounds  of  the  conflict  have  died 


away." 


Then  as  Landon  stepped  forward  and  gently 
raised  the  little  Confederate  in  his  arms,  he  said 
tenderly: 

"My  little  fellow,  you  can  do  no  more  for  him. 
He  is  dead  I" 

"Dead !"  said  the  little  drummer,  as  tears  rolled 
down  his  cheeks.  "Dead!  Will  he  never  wake 
again?" 

"No,  my  child,"  replied  Landon  almost  brok- 
enly. Then  the  little  fellow  released  himself  from 
the  young  officer's  grasp,  and  kneeling  down  by 
the  dead  boy,  kissed  him  as  he  said  in  his  childish 
simplicity  and  faith:  "Good-bye!  God  will  take 
care  of  you  now!"  Then  General  Landon  bore 
him  away  from  the  sorrowful  scene. 

The  next  day  they  rolled  the  little  form  in  a 
blanket  and  buried  it  beneath  a  willow,  with  a 
cross  above  the  grave  on  which  was  carved  the 
single  word:  "Harry." 

On  the  morrow  came  the  parting  between  the 
men  of  the  former  contending  armies,  and  it  was 
almost  with  a  fraternal  friendship  that  they  bade 
each  other  farewell,  for  whoever  began  the  war, 
and  whatever  their  past  differences  might  have 
been,  they  had  fought  the  great  battles  together, 
and  now  they  were  fellow  soldiers  together  at 
last! 


360    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Singly,  in  groups,  on  horseback  and  on  foot,  the 
Confederates  left  for  their  far-away  homes,  and 
the  great  Federal  army  was  left  supreme  and 
alone.  Then  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  faces 
northward  and  receives  its  last  orders  before  it 
begins  its  homeward  march.  As  one  of  the  ad- 
jutant-generals' assistants  reads  them  he  finishes 
with  the  following  words: 

"You  will  no  longer  be  required  to  use  the 
small  tents,  commonly  called  dog-tents  (tents  used 
in  rapid  marching) ,  but  you  will  be  furnished  with 
larger  and  better  tents." 

"Ah !  that  means,1'  said  Colonel  Gleaton,  point- 
ing to  the  dog-tents  with  his  sword,  uthat  we're 
through  with  them  to  all  intents  and  purp-housesf" 

There  was  a  burst  of  laughter  from  the  men, 
while  the  officers  shouted,  "Silence  in  the  ranks," 
though  their  own  faces  were  wreathed  in  smiles. 

Then  the  Federal  army  commenced  its  long 
march  homeward.  And  it  was  dull  and  spiritless 
to  those  old  soldiers  to  plod  wearily  along,  without 
skirmishers  ahead,  and  when  they  entered  a  valley 
to  find  no  battery  firing  upon  them  from  the 
heights  beyond,  but  to  feel  they  were  a  great  army 
fully  equipped  for  war,  but  without  a  foe. 

Thus  separated  the  two  armies  after  four  years 
of  strife,  and  the  men  who  met  as  foes  parted  at 
last  as  friends !  They  had  learned  to  know  each 
other  better,  and  to  love  each  other  more,  though 
the  acquaintance  had  begun  and  ended  on  the 
blood-stained  field  of  strife! 

And  now  at  last,  through  the  dark,  storm-lit 
clouds  of  war,  were  bursting  the  sweet  beams  of 
peace,  like  an  angel  of  mercy  heralding  the  happy 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       361 

sunshine  of  future  years;  while  from  the  homes  in 
every  part  of  the  broad  Republic  were  going  up 
prayers  of  thanks  that  the  scenes  of  blood  and 
death  were  nearly  over! 

CHAPTER  XLII. 

THE  LAST  REVIEW  OF  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC. 

"Bring  out  the  flags  before  us, 

Unfurl  them  one  by  one ; 
Ere  laid  in  solemn  silence, 

Away  from  sight  and  sun. 
With  name  and  date  of  service, 

So  men  to  come  may  read 
How  sped  the  loyal  forces, 

When  brave  hearts  took  the  lead." 

The  clear,  silvery  sunshine  of  the  23d  of  May, 
1865,  was  sweeping  over  Washington  City,  bath- 
ing the  huge  capitol  with  a  crowning  splendor 
from  its  massive  columns  of  dazzling  whiteness 
to  the  very  summit  of  the  immense  dome  that 
rested  majestically  on  its  massive  stone  base  like 
some  giant  monarch  on  his  throne. 

It  was  a  day  memorable  for  one  of  the  great 
events  in  the  closing  scenes  of  the  war — the  last 
review  and  march  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

Upon  the  broad  expanse  of  Pennsylvania  Ave- 
nue was  drawn  up  in  line  the  immense  Army  of 
the  Potomac,  numbering  over  85,000  soldiers.  It 
was  the  greatest  display  of  martial  strength  the 
capital  of  the  nation  had  ever  yet  witnessed,  but 
as  the  morning  sunbeams  flashed  on  the  gleaming 
arms  of  the  long  lines  of  men  in  blue,  they  fell 


362     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

for  the  last  time  on  that  proud  army,  for  now  its 
.work  was  through. 

Early  in  the  day  there  was  a  slight  commotion 
among  those  veteran  soldiers,  then  the  bugle 
sounded  and  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  wheeled 
into  column  of  march,  and  with  General  Mead 
riding  proudly  at  its  head,  filed  in  long  and  stately 
array  through  the  streets  of  Washington  City, 
from  the  capitol  past  the  presidential  mansion. 
Upon  a  platform  erected  in  front  of  the  White 
House  stood  President  Andrew  Johnson,  and  by 
his  side  stood  General  Grant,  the  commander  of 
the  armies  of  the  United  States.  Around  these 
two  central  figures  were  grouped  the  judges  of 
the  Supreme  Court  and  the  various  officers  of 
state. 

Along  the  line  of  march  immense  crowds  gazed 
upon  the  war-worn  soldiers  from  every  sidewalk, 
window,  door-way  and  available  house-top.  Be- 
sides the  thousands  who  had  congregated  through 
curiosity  were  hundreds  of  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren who  had  flocked  to  Washington  City  with 
beating  hearts,  to  welcome  back  from  the  army 
brothers,  husbands,  sons  and  fathers  they  had  not 
seen  for  years.  And  as  they  caught  sight — from 
the  windows  or  sidewalks — of  the  loved  ones,  the 
wild  cries  of  delight  and  fluttering  of  handker- 
chiefs announced  the  fact,  while  the  answering 
cheers  from  the  ranks  told  that  the  joy  was  mu- 
tual. 

No  wonder  those  brave  men's  steps  were  light 
and  their  hearts  were  gay  as  they  realized  it  was 
their  last  march!  What  words  they  were  to  them. 
They  meant  no  more  terrible  marches  under  a  hot 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       363 

southern  sun,  carrying  heavy  knapsacks.  They 
meant  farewell  to  tent  and  field  and  weary  nights 
of  picket  duty.  They  meant  an  end  to  fields  of 
blood  and  death,  with  the  dangers  of  war  leaving 
them  crippled  or  dead.  But,  best  of  all,  they 
meant  a  speedy  reunion  around  the  old  hearth- 
stones of  home,  amongst  those  they  loved  so 
dearly  and  tenderly. 

Near  the  middle  of  the  long  column  rode  Gen- 
eral Charlie  Landon,  at  the  head  of  his  division, 
and  at  the  rear  of  it  came  the  St.  Arlyle  regiment, 
with  Colonel  Gleaton  riding  proudly  at  its  head. 
Gleaton's  explanation  of  the  regiment  being  in 
the  extreme  rear  was  that  it  was  not  because  the 
regiment  was  of  the  least  importance,  but,  like 
the  good  things  at  a  banquet,  the  best  always  came 
last. 

As  the  regiment  was  passing  a  street  corner  a 
delegation  from  St.  Arlyle,  who  had  come  to  wel- 
come back  their  soldier-boys,  caught  sight  of  them 
and  instantly  broke  into  cheer  after  cheer.  So 
wild  was  their  enthusiasm  that  even  Gleaton  for 
several  moments  was  so  overcome  by  the  sight 
of  their  joyous  faces  and  their  wild  huzzas  that  he 
could  only  wave  his  hat.  The  situation  had  be- 
come trying,  when  a  soldier  and  whilom  member 
of  the  Vandal  club  came  to  the  rescue  by  slightly 
changing  the  old  rallying  cry  on  the  battle  field  of 
Gettysburg:  "We've  come  here  to  stay,"  to  the 
words: 

"We're  going  home  to  stay!"  Instantly  the 
cry  rang  along  the  ranks : 

"We're  going  home  to  stay!"  "We're  going 
home  to  stay!" 


364    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

By  this  time  Gleaton  had  regained  his  com- 
posure, as  he  remarked: 

"Yes,  Othello's  occupation's  gone.  So  we'll 
beat  our  swords  into  plowshares,  and  our  spears 
into  pruning  hooks,  and  go  home  to  stay!" 

At  this  juncture  the  regimental  band  struck  up 
the  strains  of  "Pat  Malloy,"  and  immediately  the 
whilom  Vandals  in  the  ranks  began  singing  over 
and  over  again  the  familiar  lines: 

"But  now  I'm  going  home  again,  as  poor  as  I  began, 
To  make  a  happy  girl  of  Moll,  and  sure  I  think  I  can." 

But  instead  of  "Moll"  they  substituted  various 
other  girls'  names,  such  as  Belle,  Nell,  Em,  etc. 
Perhaps  these  were  the  names  of  the  sweethearts 
they  had  left  behind  them,  but  we  will  not  try 
to  pry  into  their  private  affairs. 

At  the  end  of  the  march  the  Army  of  the  Poto- 
mac was  drawn  up  in  line  once  more,  and  the 
bands  struck  up  their  farewell  strains,  one  near 
the  center  of  the  line  playing  the  tune  of  "Roslyn 
Castle,"  the  old  air  that  had  disbanded  the  Con- 
tinental army  at  Newburg,  more  than  eighty  years 
before.  And  as  the  final  strains  floated  on  the 
air  the  men  broke  ranks  for  the  last  time,  and  the 
great  Army  of  the  Potomac  disappeared  from 
view  forever;  though  its  memory  will  ever  live  in 
the  hearts  and  affections  of  the  country,  its  sol- 
diers fought  so  bravely  to  preserve. 

As  they  heard  the  order  to  break  ranks  for  the 
last  time,  and  knew  their  toils  and  dangers  were 
through,  and  felt  that  home  and  friends  were 
near,  it  was  a  wonderful  sight  to  see  how  dif- 
ferently these  strong  men  expressed  their  delight. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      365 

Thousands  broke  into  wild  cheers,  while  some 
were  too  overcome  with  happiness  to  speak,  and 
stood  like  statues,  as  their  eyes  filled  with  joyous 
tears  as  they  felt  they  were  near  the  realization 
of  their  greatest  hopes  and  dreams ! 

A  colonel  when  he  heard  the  order  sprang  into 
the  air,  struck  his  heels  together  and  turned  a 
complete  somersault.  And  as  he  regained  his 
feet  he  shouted:  "Hurrah  for  Peace!  I  never 
loved  you  half  as  well  as  now!" 

A  large  captain  sprang  forward,  clasped  his 
wife — who  had  come  to  meet  him — in  his  arms, 
and  as  he  lifted  her  off  her  feet  and  kissed  her  a 
dozen  times  or  more,  cried:  "Emily,  you've 
either  grown  smaller  or  else  my  heart  has  grown 
bigger.  I  feel  it's  big  enough  to  envelope  a 
Colossus  of  Rhodes!" 

"But,"  said  Gleaton,  who  was  standing  behind 
him,  "a  pyramid,  or  perhaps  old  snowy-peaked 
Mount  Blanc,  might  cool  his  ardor!" 

A  soldier  had  been  standing  calmly  in  the  ranks, 
but  when  he  heard  the  order  to  break  ranks  his 
face  lit  up  with  an  unusual  brightness  as  he  ex- 
claimed, aptly  and  tersely,  even  above  the  tumult: 

"Great  Heavens!  Those  are  the  words  I've 
been  listening  for,  for  the  last  four  years.  They 
mean  wife,  home  and  children!" 

What  a  world  of  meaning  there  was  in  that  sol- 
dier's simple  words.  It  was  the  order  the  whole 
army  had  been  hoping  for  after  many  a  long  cam- 
paign, and  after  many  a  desperate  battle.  In  fact, 
it  was  the  order  for  which  the  entire  nation  of 
heart-sickened  people  was  praying  and  longing. 

But  with  the  joys  of  Peace  came  the  sad  fare- 


366    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

wells  between  comrades  forever.  Comrades  who 
for  weary  years  had  shared  their  common  meals 
and  tents  together,  or  marched  side  by  side 
through  many  a  long  campaign,  or  stood  shoulder 
to  shoulder  on  many  a  bloody  field,  or  nursed  and 
encouraged  each  other  through  sickness  and 
wounds,  till  they  were  endeared  to  each  other  by 
almost  family  ties ! 

Then  also  came  the  soldiers'  last  tender  part- 
ing from  their  commanders,  the  officers  who  had 
led  them  with  noble  example  and  encouragement 
while  sharing  their  common  dangers  and  suffer- 
ings, too.  Between  none  of  the  officers  and  the 
men  was  the  parting  more  tender  and  sincere  than 
between  Charlie  and  the  soldiers  of  his  division. 
For  there  was  a  boyish  frankness  and  generous 
good-heartedness  about  him  that  held  a  peculiar 
magnetism  that  very  rarely  failed  to  win  its  way 
to  others'  hearts.  This,  added  to  his  dashing  gal- 
lantry, his  handsome  face  and  fine  commanding 
figure,  and  his  brilliant  flashes  of  conversation, 
showing  his  great  depth  of  learning,  and  the  easy, 
light  and  ingenuous  way  he  had  of  imparting  it, 
that  won  the  attention  and  confidence  of  those 
about  him,  and  above  all,  the  sweet,  tender  ex- 
pression that  filled  his  eyes  when  his  sympathies 
were  aroused  for  a  wounded  soldier,  or  their  dar- 
ing glitter  when  facing  a  foe,  that  threw  a  charm 
about  him  few  could  resist. 

At  last  the  parting  words  were  said,  and  the 
men  scattered  over  the  country  to  find  rest  in 
happy  homes,  surrounded  by  wife  and  children, 
or  those  they  loved  the  best.  And  in  the  joys  of 
peace  and  home  old  comrades  were  forgotten  and 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       367 

forever  separated,  except  to  meet  by  chance  now 
and  then  as  they  talked  over  the  thrilling  scenes 
they  had  passed  through  together.  What  a  world 
of  meaning  there  is  in  the  word  home !  It  means 
more  than  the  house  we  inhabit;  it  means  those 
we  love  the  dearest  and  the  best!  And  over 
Charlie  Landon  there  came  a  feeling  of  sadness, 
as  he  felt  he  had  no  home  in  the  truest  sense  of 
the  word;  for  she  he  loved  dearer  than  life  was 
separated  from  him,  perhaps  forever.  So  in  his 
grim  despair  he  took  charge  of  a  geological  ex- 
pedition, to  explore  for  six  months  in  South 
America,  in  hopes  that  amid  the  new  life  his  heart 
would  lose  some  of  the  weary  pain  that  was  ever 
gnawing  at  it,  for  he  felt  he  never  could  forget 
or  control  his  love  for  her. 

The  next  day  after  the  review  of  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac,  General  Sherman  rode  proudly 
through  Washington  City  at  the  head  of  150,000 
sunburned  and  toil-worn  soldiers,  who  had  just 
returned  from  that  long,  remarkable  march  from 
Atlanta  to  the  sea.  And  that  day  they  broke 
ranks  forever,  and  ere  sunset  that  mighty  army 
was  only  a  thing  of  the  past.  And  now  again 
the  stars  and  stripes  floated  in  peace  over  the  Re- 
public, from  its  northern  boundry  to  its  extreme 
southern  line.  And  may  Heaven  speed  the  day 
when  time  has  calmed  the  sorrows  and  benumbed 
the  bitterness  and  regrets,  and  the  heart  is  touched 
and  softened  by  that  tranquil  and  beautiful  feel- 
ing, the  memory  of  the  dead — those  brave  sol- 
diers in  blue  and  gray,  who  fought  for  what  the} 
deemed  the  right — that  feeling  that  arouses  the 
better  thoughts  of  our  nature  by  the  winning 


368    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

charm  of  sweet,  pure  sympathy,  linked  by  the 
silver  chord  of  memory  and  the  golden  chain  of 
love  to  the  everlasting  world  of  peace;  as  if  our 
souls  had  joined  in  mystic  intercourse  with  the 
spirits  of  those  across  the  waves  of  time? 

Thus  when  the  years  have  fallen,  silent,  calm 
and  still — like  the  sunlight  floods  the  globe — with 
an  impartial  touch  on  all,  then  will  the  laurels  of 
victory  have  intertwined  with  the  bliss  of  peace 
and  love ! 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 


SAD  AND  SWEET  MEMORIES. 

Friends  my  soul  with  joy  remembers! 

How  like  quivering  flames  they  start, 
When  I  fan  the  living  embers 

On  the  hearthstone  of  my  heart. 

— Longfellow. 

Slowly  the  train  was  moving  out  of  Rome  on 
a  beautiful  afternoon  in  early  June,  as  Bertha  sat 
at  an  open  car  window  on  her  way  to  her  native 
land.  The  golden  summer  sunlight  was  floating 
over  the  Eternal  City  in  all  its  splendor,  mingling 
with  the  clear,  balmy  Italian  air,  and  as  the  train 
wound  through  the  city,  she  caught  last  views  of 
the  rare  old  ruins  and  structures  of  ancient  Rome 
as  they  lay  slumbering  in  the  clear,  warm  air, 
while  there  thronged  before  her  mental  vision 
scenes  from  their  wondrous  history  when  Rome 
was  the  capital  of  the  world.  There  before  her 
view  stood  the  gigantic  Colosseum,  within  whose 
walls  for  ages  were  enacted  brutal  sports  for  the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       369 

amusement  of  the  Roman  populace.  Its  huge  in- 
terior, once  capable  of  holding  80,000  people,  and 
its  massive  walls,  once  towering  high  into  the  air, 
but  now  nearly  half  in  ruins,  yet  amid  the  debris 
on  the.  floor  can  still  be  found  the  bronze  ring  to 
which  Christian  martyrs  and  other  captives  were 
chained,  while  beneath  the  partly  ruined  specta- 
tors' galleries  are  still  to  be  seen  the  vast  ranges 
of  cells  where  the  wild  beasts — panthers,  tigers, 
leopards  and  lions — were  kept  that  tore  and  man- 
gled the  human  captives  in  mortal  combat,  while 
the  multitude  looked  on  and  applauded. 

"But,"  she  thought,  "what  a  change  Christian- 
ity has  produced !  For  there,  where  the  dome  of 
St.  Peter's  Cathedral  looms  high  in  the  sky,  were 
the  gardens  of  Nero — the  most  cruel  of  all  the 
Roman  tyrants.  It  was  there  during  his  reign  that 
the  silent  obelisks  in  the  square  before  the  cathe- 
dral witnessed  the  awful  sights  of  human  suffer- 
ing. For  it  was  there  on  summer  nights  that  gay 
crowds — with  the  cruel  Emperor  among  them — 
gathered  to  watch  the  ghastly  human  torches 
blacken  the  ground  with  pitch,  while  in  each  was 
a  Christian  martyr  in  his  mantle  of  fire !  And  in 
the  Colosseum  near  by,  immense  crowds  were 
watching  the  purest  of  Christian  men  and  women 
torn  to  pieces  by  wild  beasts.  No  wonder,  then, 
this  gay  capital — bathed  as  it  was  in  human  blood 
— met  at  last  a  terrible  fate  at  the  hand  of  the 
barbarian!" 

Out  of  Rome  the  train  wound  slowly  north- 
ward, through  the  Campagna,  brilliant  with  the 
array  of  scarlet  and  yellow  flowers,  toward  Flor- 
ence, a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  distant.  And  as 


370    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

she  gazed  from  the  car  windows  it  was  a  beau- 
tiful and  entrancing  sight  that  unfolded  before 
her  view,  for  this  was  Tuscany,  the  ancient 
Etruria  of  wondrous  history.  She  catches 
glimpses  of  mountain  heights,  of  cool,  shady  ra- 
vines, then  of  quaint  old  walled  towns,  slumber- 
ing in  the  dreamy,  balmy  Italian  air.  And  there 
arises  before  her  mind  as  if  by  magic,  visions  of 
that  glorious  past  recorded  on  the  glowing  pages 
of  Arnold,  Gibbon  and  Sesmondi.  And  farther 
back  yet  her  imagination  wanders,  ere  Rome's 
regal  and  imperial  glory  was  born,  and  while  yet 
the  lance  and  shield  of  the  Middle  Ages  had  more 
than  two  thousand  years  to  wait,  when  the  Etrus- 
can commonwealth  of  twelve  fair  cities  formed  a 
confederacy  that  required  all  the  early  strength 
of  Rome  to  subdue.  And  as  the  train  whirls 
along  there  passes  like  a  panorama  the  ruins  of 
these  cities  of  bygone  glories  and  the  tombs  of 
Porsena  and  Lucomo  and  the  other  heroes  of 
that  departed  age,  sleeping  unconscious  of  the 
two  thousand  years  and  more  of  history  that  has 
since  elapsed. 

And  again  her  thoughts  sweep  over  those  later 
years,  when  Tuscany  was  bathed  in  blood,  suc- 
cessively by  the  Roman  rulers,  the  Gothic  con- 
querors, and  the  Prankish  and  the  German  war- 
riors, but  on  whose  gallant  deeds  the  curtain  of 
the  past  has  fallen  forever.  Thus  under  the  ef- 
fects of  the  warm,  balmy  air  a  dreamy  languor 
has  stolen  over  her,  when  suddenly  she  was 
aroused  from  her  reverie  just  as  the  train  was 
leaving  a  little  sleepy  Italian  station,  by  a  gentle 
tap  on  the  shoulder.  Instantly  her  thoughts, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       371 

which  had  floated  far  away  into  time  and  space, 
were  brought  back  to  the  consciousness  of  the 
present. 

Bertha  looked  up,  and  with  a  start  of  surprise 
she  saw  Colonel  Edward  Wilberton  standing  by 
her  side.  Over  her  lovely  face  there  came  an  ex- 
pression of  pleasure,  mingled  with  sadness  as  she 
thought,  "now  I  shall  hear  of  poor,  dear  May's 
death,  and" — with  a  slight  blush — "of  Charlie 
Landon,  too." 

After  they  had  exchanged  a  few  words  of  greet- 
ing, he  seated  himself  by  her  side  in  silence.  For 
over  the  minds  of  each  rolled  a  flood  of  memories 
of  those  stirring  bygone  years — sad  and  tender 
thoughts  that  seemed  almost  too  deep  for  words. 

At  last  Bertha  with  a  woman's  gentleness  and 
tact  broke  the  silence  with  a  commonplace  ques- 
tion and  quickly  and  skillfully  led  to  the  subjects 
nearest  her  heart. 

"How  long  have  you  been  in  Italy?"  she  asked. 

"About  two  months,"  he  replied.  "Are  you 
going  to  Florence?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "on  my  way  home  to 
America.  For  I  shall  ever  consider  it  home,  for 
around  it  cling  the  dearest  and  sweetest  memories 
of  all!" 

"It  will  also,"  he  said,  "be  home  to  me,  though 
I  fought  against  its  flag.  But  it  cost  me  dearly; 
all  that  I  loved  tenderest  in  this  world.  And  my 
severe  chastening,  I  think,  has  gone  far  toward 
atoning  for  my  willfulness.  And  though  my  heart 
at  first  was  filled  with  a  bitter  desire  for  revenge, 
time  has  calmed  and  mollified  it,  and  my  wishes 
now  are  for  the  welfare  of  the  whole  country. 


372     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

For  I  feel  it  holds  the  grave  of  her  I  loved  better 
than  all  the  world  beside.  My  noble,  true-hearted 
May." 

"Sweet,  gentle  May!"  exclaimed  Bertha,  as  her 
dark  eyes  grew  moist.  "It  seems  so  cruel  that 
war's  rude  hand  should  have  claimed  her  as  one 
of  its  victims.  She,  whose  every  thought  was  one 
of  love  for  others,  and  whose  every  deed  seemed 
an  act  of  kindness  for  those  around  her.  But  I'm 
sure  her  faith,  like  her  life,  was  perfect  to  the 
last!" 

"Indeed  it  was.  And  her  last  wishes,  like  the 
acts  and  thoughts  of  her  life,  were  for  the  welfare 
of  those  she  loved.  For  even  the  approach  of 
Death's  cold,  icy  hand  could  not  still  her  loving 
heart,  till  it  had  ceased  to  beat!" 

"She  was  mortally  wounded  at  Gettysburg?" 
said  Bertha,  as  her  beautiful  dark  eyes  grew  wet 
with  tears. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  as  over  his  face  came  an  al- 
most womanly  tenderness,  mingled  with  sadness. 
He  then  gave  a  graphic  description  of  May's 
tragic  death. 

"But,"  he  continued,  "before  her  noble,  loving 
heart  was  stilled  forever,  she  said: 

"  'Tell  Bertha,  when  you  see  her,  that  my  last 
moments  were  calm  and  happy.  And  tell  her  to 
crush  her  pride,  and  be  true  to  her  own  heart  and 
Heaven  will  bless  her.* ' 

"God  bless  her,"  said  Bertha,  "if  He  can,  more 
than  He  already  does  in  her  happy  home  in 
Heaven,"  she  continued,  as  the  tears  filled  her 
dark  eyes  and  fell  upon  the  fragrant  blossoms  on 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       373 

her  bosom,  while  there  came  a  wonderful  tender- 
ness over  her  lovely  face. 

"May  grew  rapidly  weaker,"  Wilberton  con- 
tinued, uas  she  said  with  a  strong  effort:  'Good- 
bye, Ned!  Don't  cry!  We've  had  a  happy  life 
together.  It  seems  hard  to  go,  yet  God's  will  be 
done.  But  I  shall  meet  you  on  the  shining  shore 
of  Peace!' 

"Then  her  arm  tightened  convulsively  and  pas- 
sionately around  my  neck,  and  her  sweet  blue  eyes 
sought  mine  with  a  last,  wild,  loving  glance! 
Then  the  little  hand  relaxed  its  hold  on  my  neck, 
and  the  eyelids  drooped  heavily  forever  over  the 
sweet  blue  eyes!  I  bent  my  head  quickly  and 
kissed  her  lips,  as  with  her  parting  breath  'the 
light  of  immortal  beauty  silently  covered  her  face.1 
Then  as  my  head  sank  upon  her  breast  I  heard 
the  last  beat  of  her  heart,  and  I  knew  the  rosy 
lips  would  never  smile  upon  me  again,  and  that 
the  sweet  blue  eyes  would  never  greet  me  more! 

"Like  one  in  some  horrible  dream,  I  saw  the 
last  rays  of  twilight  solemnly  fade  and  darkness 
shroud  the  Pennsylvania  hills,  and  sad  and  gloomy 
it  fell  upon  me!  In  that  long,  sorrowful  night 
that  closed  around  me  there  sprang  forth  grim 
spectres  of  sweet  memories,  hopes  and  loves  that 
haunted  me  but  to  remind  me  that  they  were  dead, 
till  there  came  upon  me  a  feeling  of  desolation 
like  one  lost  forever  in  a  dark  wilderness,  as  I 
realized  that  my  brightest  hopes,  dreams  and 
wishes  were  shattered  forever !  And  in  that  awful 
night  there  sprang  out  of  the  darkness  many  vivid 
scenes  of  suffering  and  agony,  till  I  felt  like  the 
lost  soul  in  the  old  Greek  mythology  as  it  is  borne 


374    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

by  the  ghastly  ferryman,  Charon,  across  the  Styg- 
ian River! 

"There  long  after  midnight  they  found  me,  still 
clasping  her  inanimate  form.  They  bore  her  form 
into  camp,  and  I  followed  like  one  in  some  hor- 
rible dream.  I  had  all  that  was  mortal  of  her 
buried  in  St.  Arlyle.  Then  I  joined  my  regiment 
again,  with  a  heart  maddened  with  anger  and  with 
a  thirst  for  revenge  no  words  can  express!  And  I 
resolved  to  fight  the  war  out  to  the  bitter  end! 

"The  battle  of  Gettysburg,"  continued  Wilber- 
ton,  "was  the  turning  point  of  the  war,  but  we 
fought  on  as  desperately  as  ever.  After  that  bat- 
tle we  had  one  more  chance  for  victory,  on  the 
terrible  battle  field  of  the  Wilderness.  But  we 
failed,  and  after  that  we  saw  the  star  of  Confed- 
eracy gradually  but  surely  sinking,  until  it  dis- 
appeared forever  on  an  April  day  on  the  field  at 
Appomattox,  nearly  a  year  later! 

"During  the  last  battles  around  Richmond  we 
were  reduced  to  but  eight  thousand  men,  while 
the  great  Federal  army  numbered  nearly  two  hun- 
dred thousand,  but  we  struggled  on  with  a  bravery 
that  surprised  the  enemy  and  with  a  success  at 
resistance  that  even  astonished  us.  But  what  the 
result  would  be  of  that  last  protracted  struggle 
was  as  evident  to  the  commonest  soldier  as  it  was 
to  the  commander  himself — it  meant  annihilation 
for  surrender!  But  those  few  men  of  that  once 
great  army  of  Northern  Virginia  were  fighting 
with  a  desperation  akin  to  death,  for  most  of  them 
had  lost  their  all — and  in  the  grimness  of  despair 
they  little  cared  what  the  end  would  be!  The 
[end  came  on  an  April  day,  when  we  stacked  our 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      3751 

arms  forever,  and  laid  pur  colors  in  the  dust! 
But  the  end  was  a  surprise  to  us,  for  we  found 
the  Federal  soldiers  wonderfully  kind  and  tender. 
They  gave  more  than  a  generous  half  of  their 
food  to  our  starving  men,  and  they  endeavored 
in  every  way  not  to  hurt  our  feelings,  or  to  make 
us  feel  like  a  humiliated  foe.  For,  said  they,  have 
we  not  fought  the  great  battles  together,  and  are 
we  not  fellow  soldiers  at  last?  And  in  those  few 
days  we  learned  to  know  and  like  them  better  than 
we  ever  had  before ! 

"I  was  standing,"  continued  Wilberton,  "on  the 
field  of  surrender,  when  Charlie  Landon  came  to 
me  with  his  old  winning,  boyish  frankness,  and  as 
he  grasped  my  hand,  he  said  with  a  kind  expres- 
sion on  his  handsome  face  and  a  tenderness  in  his 
voice  that  won  my  heart: 

"  'This  is  a  sad  ending,  my  dear  fellow !  And 
I  am  sincerely  sorry  for  you,  but  it  is  perhaps  for 
the  best?' 

"He  is,"  continued  Wilberton,  "a  noble  fellow; 
generous,  true  and  kind;  incapable  of  a  mean  ac- 
tion or  word,  for  he  has  a  heart  as  far  above 
meanness  and  envy  as  the  heavens  are  above  the 
earth.  He  is  the  most  brilliant  scholar  I  ever 
knew,  for  so  young  a  man.  He  is  a  noble,  gen- 
erous soldier,  and  as  brave  as  a  lion!  In  fact, 
he  has  just  the  qualities  of  a  hero.  For  I  have 
met  him  as  a  foe,  and  tried  him  as  a  friend,  and 
he  realizes  in  all  its  fullness  the  poet's  line  of 
'Truest  friend  and  noblest  foe.'  " 

Bertha  looked  up,  as  a  blush  mantled  her  beau- 
tiful face,  and  the  lovelight  sparkled  in  her  dark, 
velvety  orbs,  as  she  said: 


376    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"You  are  very  generous  in  the  praise  of  your 
friends." 

"Not  always,"  he  said.  "But  in  my  admiration 
of  Charlie  Landon  I  am  only  just,  for  he  deserves 
it  all,  and  more." 

After  a  moment's  silence  Wilberton  continued: 
"So  Charlie  Landon  and  I  parted,  but  I  hope  ere 
long  to  meet  him  again,  in  a  united  country.  For 
one  of  my  greatest  wishes  now  is  to  see  my  country 
united  in  hearts  as  well  as  bonds.  One  of  the 
great  philosophers  and  wise  men  of  Greece  was 
once  asked:  'What  is  the  most  grateful  of  all 
things?'  and  he  answered,  'Time.'  His  answer 
was  a  very  true  one,  for  time  is  a  great  softener 
of  asperities,  as  well  as  a  corrector  of  judgments. 
For  though  even  now  when  I  catch  sight  of  the 
stars  and  bars,  there  arises  a  tender,  true  memory 
of  the  stormy  days  when  I  rallied  under  its  folds, 
still  when  I  see  the  stars  and  stripes,  there  arises 
the  love  of  my  boyhood  and  early  manhood,  an 
older  and  dearer  love  even  still !" 

"And,"  said  Bertha  archly,  "old  loves  are  al- 
ways the  strongest  and  the  best!" 

"True,"  he  replied  smiling.  "I  have  found  it 
so,  for  there  were  moments  in  the  early  days  of 
the  Civil  War  when,  as  I  looked  across  the  battle 
line  and  saw  the  old  flag  floating  there,  I  almost 
felt  as  Homer  depicts  the  feelings  of  Helen,  while 
she  gazed  from  the  ramparts  of  Troy,  as  with 
'former  fires' 

"'Her  country,  parents,  all  that  once  were  dear, 
Rush  to  her  thoughts,  and  force  a  tender  tear/ 

.    "For  it  was  the  flag  of  my  boyhood,  of  my 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      377 

early  manhood,  too,  and  the  tenderest  impulses 
of  my  heart  still  clung  to  the  dear  old  flag,  for 
under  its  folds  the  sweetest  years  of  my  life  had 
been  passed,  when  'Hope  was  life's  sweet  sov- 
ereign, and  the  heart  and  step  were  light.'  ' 

At  last  the  fair  city  of  Florence  dawns  in  view, 
that  Tuscan  lily,  which  Italy  wears  like  a  blossom 
upon  her  breast.  And  in  that  lovely  June  after- 
noon the  beautiful  city  lay  shining  in  the  sunlight 
like  a  gem  in  a  beautiful  setting  of  green.  They 
catch  sight  of  the  many  gilded  palaces  and  watch 
the  sunlight  glitter  on  the  immense  dome  of  the 
Duomo,  and  flash  in  fiery  corruscations  from  the 
hundreds  of  spires  of  that  wonderful  city.  And 
while  they  yet  gaze  in  admiration  the  Angelus  bells 
of  the  world-famed  Cathedral  of  Campanile  peal 
forth  their  sweet  melody  on  the  perfumed  air — 
arising  from  the  array  of  flowers  of  every  hue — 
sending  forth,  as  it  were,  a  double  welcome  to 
the  fair,  ancient  city. 

"This  is  my  station,"  said  Colonel  Wilberton, 
arising  as  the  train  approached  a  small  station. 
uDo  you  intend  to  tarry  in  Florence?" 

"No,  I  am  going  home  to  the  United  States," 
she  replied  smiling,  "for  despite  the  sunny  skies  of 
Italy,  my  heart  is  roving  there!  For  I  never  loved 
my  country  better  than  I  do  now.  And,"  she 
added,  as  a  warm  tint  mantled  her  lovely  face 
and  a  beautiful  light  filled  her  dark,  lustrous  eyes, 
"one  of  the  greatest  wishes  of  my  heart  is  to  see 
the  men  who  wore  the  blue  and  gray,  mingled 
in  as  perfect  fellowship  as  the  gray  dawn  of  a 
summer  morning  is  mingled  with  the  perfect  blue 
of  a  summer  day." 


378    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"And  I  think  the  omens  are  propitious  toward 
realizing  your  wish,"  he  replied  with  a  smile. 
"For  a  short  time  before  I  left  America  I  went 
over  the  old  battle  fields  and  I  found,  just  as  the 
North  and  South  were  forgiving  and  forgetting, 
so  nature,  too,  was  hiding  the  old  scars  of  enmity, 
and  the  lilies  of  love  and  peace  were  springing 
where  the  laurels  used  to  grow!  For  on  the  field 
of  Gettysburg  the  Federal  and  Confederate  monu- 
ments of  valor  are  standing  almost  side  by  side!" 

CHAPTER  XLIV. 

THE  VANDAL  CONGRESS  ONCE  AGAIN. 

I  see  a  chief  who  leads  my  chosen  sons, 
All  armed  with  points,  antitheses  and  puns. 

— Pope. 

After  the  close  of  the  Civil  War  and  the  return 
of  the  absent  Vandals  to  St.  Arlyle  the  Vandal 
club,  or  Congress  (as  they  themselves  called  it), 
was  reorganized  and  placed  in  a  more  flourishing 
condition.  Although  during  the  war  its  organiza- 
tion had  been  continued,  the  club  had  gradually 
lost  one  member  after  another,  until  the  interest 
in  it  had  sunk  to  a  very  low  ebb.  But  with  the 
return  of  the  old  members  and  the  addition  of 
new  ones  there  came  a  new  era  in  its  prosperity, 
until,  to  use  the  words  of  Gleaton,  "it  transcended 
its  pristine  glory." 

An  adjunct  that  had  materially  assisted  in  in- 
creasing its  membership  was  the  rapid  growth  of 
the  village,  since  it  had  become  a  popular  bathing 
resort.  The  club  had  so  far  progressed  toward 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      379 

placing  its  organization  on  a  permanent  basis  as 
to  be  able  to  build  a  clubhouse  on  the  lot  which 
they  had  purchased.  The  source  from  which  the 
Vandals  had  obtained  their  funds  was  at  first 
somewhat  enveloped  in  mystery,  but  it  gradually 
became  known  that  several  prominent  persons  had 
assisted  them.  Among  the  number  was  Richard 
Lex,  who  had  been  elected  a  county  judge,  for 
he  had  become  a  sober  and  useful  citizen.  Colonel 
Tom  Gleaton  had  also  sent  them  a  present  of  fifty 
dollars.  Charlie  Landon  had,  to  use  their  own 
words,  "kindly  interested  himself  in  their  affairs, 
and  materially  assisted  them  with  pecuniary  emol- 
uments." And  last  to  be  mentioned,  but  not  least 
in  giving,  was  Miss  Bertha  Merton,  who  had  not 
forgotten  how  intimately  they  were  intertwined 
with  those  troublous  days  of  the  past,  and  how 
nobly  and  manfully  they  had  come  to  her  assist- 
ance. Her  gifts  consisted  of  money  and  books, 
both  of  which  they  received  with  many  thanks, 
expressed  by  means  of  the  most  grandiloquent  let- 
ters the  club  could  compose,  which  when  she  read 
she  would  remark  with  a  smile  that  "they  are  good 
fellows  and  deserving  of  encouragement,  though 
somewhat  addicted  to  compliments  and  high  flown 
language." 

As  we  have  remarked,  one  of  Miss  Merton's 
gifts  consisted  of  books,  and  this  formed  the 
nucleus  of  their  constantly  increasing  library. 
Their  library  was  a  heterogeneous  collection  of 
works  on  law,  science,  literature  and  philosophy. 
Pre-eminent  among  their  books  were  several  full 
sets  of  encyclopedias  and  three  large  dictionaries. 
These  latter  volumes,  they  claimed,  were  very  es- 


380    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

sential  to  the  Congress'  progress,  as  we  shall  also 
see  if  we  attend  a  session  of  the  club. 

It  was  Saturday  night,  and  the  Vandal  Congress 
was  in  full  session.  There  are  many  changes  in 
their  ranks  since  last  we  chronicled  their  proceed- 
ings, but  still  we  recognize  many  familiar  faces — 
grown  older,  it  is  true — but  still  with  the  same 
felicitous,  jolly  expression  on  them  as  of  yore. 

It  was  a  large  room  and  extending  entirely 
across  the  floor  were  rows  of  chairs  in  which  the 
members  ensconced  themselves  during  a  session. 
Facing  the  chair,  and  against  the  wall,  was  a 
raised  platform,  covered  by  a  crimson  plush  can- 
opy and  on  this  dais  was  a  large  armchair,  which 
was  occupied  by  the  President  during  their  delib- 
erations. Directly  in  front  of  this  platform  were 
two  desks,  where  the  two  secretaries  sat  who  re- 
corded the  proceedings  of  the  Congress.  On  one 
side  of  the  room  was  a  huge  desk  piled  with  books 
and  papers,  at  which  the  reference  clerk  sat,  whose 
duties  we  shall  learn  of  by  and  by.  The  walls, 
where  not  occupied  by  book  cases,  were  covered 
with  pictures,  maps  and  charts.  In  one  corner  of 
the  room  stood  a  glass  case  filled  with  minerals, 
swords,  belts,  guns,  balls,  and  various  other  souv- 
enirs of  the  war.  In  another  corner  stood  a  large 
brass-knobbed  wooden  safe,  painted  green,  on 
which  was  delineated  in  vivid  colors,  a  huge  bull 
dog — evidently  the  Cerberus  of  the  treasury. 
What  the  safe  contained  was  a  mystery — for  it 
was  very  heavy  and  was  never  opened — but  the 
tradition  ran  that  it  was  filled  with  bricks. 

The  club  had  elected  a  new  president,  named 
Samuel  Verbum,  who  was  remarkable  for  two 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       381 

characteristics,  his  great  and  grandiloquent  com- 
mand of  language  and  his  sempiternal  ability  to 
smoke  an  immense  pipe.  He  seemed  to  be  ac- 
quainted with  all  the  words  in  the  dictionary,  and 
to  be  able  to  use  them  on  any  occasion  with  a 
volubility  that  was  wonderful.  But  a  new  or  rare 
word  was  his  delight,  and  he  caught  it  in  a  mo- 
ment and  enfolded  in  his  tenacious  memory  with 
a  grip  like  Nessus's  shirt  on  the  body  of  Hercules. 

During  the  session  of  the  club  Verbum  smoked 
the  huge  pipe,  with  a  bowl  the  size  of  a  teacup, 
into  which  he  would  pour  a  quarter  of  a  pound 
of  tobacco,  and  then  seating  himself  in  the  Presi- 
dent's chair,  would  puff  forth  immense  volumes 
of  smoke,  like  a  human  steam  engine.  It  was  said 
that  he  only  smoked  during  a  meeting  of  the  club, 
but  anyhow  it  was  on  these  occasions  alone  he 
smoked  the  immense  pipe.  Several  Vandals,  in 
Sam's  absence,  had  surreptitiously  obtained  the 
meerschaum,  and  after  filling  it  with  tobacco,  had 
endeavored  to  smoke  it,  but  after  nearly  killing 
themselves,  had  yielded  to  him  the  palm  as  a 
smoker,  just  as  they  had  long  since  admitted  him 
to  be  the  chief  in  the  use  of  rare  words  and  grand- 
iloquent language. 

Samuel  Verbum  was  a  reporter  on  the  village 
paper.  He  was  of  medium  height,  about  twenty- 
two  or  twenty-three  years  of  age,  with  a  full, 
good  natured  face,  brown  eyes,  dark,  wavy  hair, 
a  black,  curling  moustache,  and — in  opposition  to 
the  prevalent  idea  of  a  hard  student — a  full, 
rounded  figure,  for,  notwithstanding  Sam's  hard 
study  in  devouring  an  English  unabridged  diction- 
ary and  most  of  a  standard  encyclopedia,  he  had 


THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

literally  grown  fleshy  during  his  great  feast  of 
words.  These  members  of  the  Vandal  club  who 
had  entered  the  army  had  found  Sam  in  another 
regiment  in  their  brigade,  or  perhaps  he  had  dis- 
covered them,  or,  rather,  the  discovery  was  mu- 
tual, for  he  had  affiliated  with  them  as  instinctively 
as  a  duck  takes  to  water.  He  had  obtained  his 
transfer  from  his  regiment  to  their  company,  and 
at  the  close  of  the  war  he  had  drifted  back  with 
them  to  St.  Arlyle. 

As  we  have  remarked,  it  was  Saturday  night, 
and  the  Congress  was  in  full  session.  It  was  a 
grand  occasion,  being  their  first  gala  meeting  since 
the  war,  and  there  were  present  by  invitation  a 
number  of  ex-Vandals,  among  others  Colonel 
Tom  Gleaton.  Those  invited  guests  were  to 
make  a  few  remarks,  to  give  "eclat,"  as  the  Van- 
dals expressed  it,  to  the  occasion.  After  Samuel 
Verbum  had  taken  the  chair  and  sent  forth  a  few 
huge  puffs  of  smoke  from  his  immense  meer- 
schaum, he  called  the  meeting  to  order  and  re- 
quested the  clerk  to  call  the  roll  and  read  the 
minutes  of  the  last  session,  after  which  he  an- 
nounced : 

"We  will  now  proceed  to  the  profluent  order 
of  business,  and  the  secretary  will  peruse  the  com- 
munication addressed  to  the  Vandal  Congress." 

The  secretary  then  read  a  brief  communication 
from  Miss  Merton,  tendering  a  gift  of  a  hundred 
dollars  to  the  Vandal  Club. 

"It  should  be  addressed  to  the  Vandal  Con- 
gress "  said  Verbum.  "What  is  the  sense  of  the 
assembly?" 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      383 

"Suspend  the  rules  and  accept  the  donation," 
moved  a  member. 

"But  that  will  not  assist  us,"  said  Verbum.  "It 
is  not  according  to  parliamentary  usages." 

"Suspend  the  name  and  take  in  the  appropria- 
tion," shouted  a  Vandal. 

And  the  name  was  accordingly  suspended,  and 
the  appropriation  taken  in. 

A  resolution  of  thanks  to  Miss  Merton  was 
then  offered  and  unanimously  adopted,  after  it 
had  undergone  numerous  emendations  .and  addi- 
tions, until  it  was  invested  with  the  most  grandil- 
oquent language  possible. 

"She  is,"  said  Verbum,  referring  to  Miss  Mer- 
ton, "a  noble  little  lady,  and  in  the  words  of  the 
Roman  proverb,  Author  pretiosa  facit — the  giver 
makes  the  gift  more  precious." 

"Yes,"  said  Ed  Thorne,  the  reference  clerk, 
"she  is  an  example  of  the  Latin  apothegm,  Gratior 
ac  pulchro  veniens  in  corpore  virtus,  which  we 
may  freely  translate:  Beauty  lends  grace  even 
to  intrinsic  worth." 

"She  fulfills,"  said  Joe  Percival,  the  philoso- 
pher of  the  club,  "the  ancient  sage's  definition  that 
'Beauty  is  a  sovereignty  that  stands  in  need  of 
no  guards.'  ' 

"And  also,"  said  Will  Anderson,  "Aristotle's 
definition  of  beauty:  'The  gift  of  a  fair  appear- 


ance.' " 


"To  see  her,"  said  Joe  Percival,  "and  to  won- 
der why  all  praise  her,  is  to  exclaim  with  Aris- 
totle, when  some  one  asked  him  'why  all  people 
admire  beauty/  'Why,'  he  exclaimed,  'it  is  the 
question  of  a  blind  man!'  " 


384    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Or,"  said  a  member  near  the  door,  "to  use 
the  words  of  Plato,  'Beauty  is  the  privilege  of 
nature,'  and  in  the  words  of  Theocritus,  'An  ivory 
mischief,'  and  in  those  of  Socrates,  'A  short  lived 
tyranny.'  ' 

^  There  was  instantly  cries  of  dissension  and 
hisses,  while  over  Verbum's  face  came  an  expres- 
sions of  surprise  and  anger,  as  he  exclaimed: 
"Sergeant-at-arms,  carefully  eliminate  that  mem- 
ber from  the  assembly!" 

The  sergeant-at-arms  seized  his  huge  stuffed 
club,  nearly  as  large  as  himself,  and  instantly 
made  a  charge  on  the  obnoxious  member,  who 
was  endeavoring  to  escape,  but  the  club  came  in 
contact  with  his  posterior  and  elevated  him  about 
ten  feet  into  the  street.  As  the  officer  of  order 
closed  the  door  he  exclaimed: 

"In  the  words  of  the  Bard  of  Avon,  'How  are 
we  tossed  on  fortune's  fickle  flood!'  ' 

"Nothing  in  this  world,"  said  President  Ver- 
bum,  as  he  rapped  for  order,  "excels  a  fool  with 
too  long  a  tongue! 

"'Nothing  exceeds  in  ridicule  no  doubt, 
A  fool  in  fashion,  but  a  fool  that's  out'" 

"No  one,"  said  Will  Johnson,  "but  an  idiot 
would  make  such  frivolous  remarks  about  a  young 
lady  who  has  been  such  a  true  friend  to  the  mem- 
bers of  this  body.  She  is  a  noble  little  lady.  I 
saw  her  the  other  day,  and  she  looked  irresist- 
ibly and  bewitchingly  beautiful,  without  a  thought 
of  the  entrancing  thrill  she  sent  darting  through 
many  a  fellow's  heart!" 

As  the  last  speaker  finished,  Verbum  gave  a 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       385 

long  puff  on  his  large  pipe,  then  laid  it  aside  for 
a  crowning  effort,  as  he  began: 

"She's  a  dainty,  bewitching  little  lady;  she's  a 
charming,  bonny  girl;  she's  a  sweet,  darling  little 
maid;  she's  as  beautiful  as  a  Hebe,  as  lovely  as 
a  Venus,  as  graceful  as  a  Peri,  as  fair  as  a  lily, 
and  as  dazzling  as  a  goddess!  She's  truly  gor- 
geous, superb,  magnificent,  sublime,  grand!  In 
a  sentence,  she  realizes  the  artist's  fancy,  and  the 
poet's  dream,  when  he  wrote: 

"  'When  life  looks  lone  and  dreary, 

What  light  can  expel  the  gloom? 
When  Time's  swift  wing  grows  weary, 

What  charm  can  refresh  his  plume? 
Tis  woman,  whose  sweetness  beameth 

O'er  all  that  we  feel  and  see, 
And  if  man  of  heaven  e'er  dreameth, 

Tis  when  he  thinks  purely  of  thee.' " 

When  Verbum  ceased  speaking  there  was  a 
silence  for  several  moments,  broken  at  last  by 
the  President  asking:  "Has  anyone  anything 
more  to  add?" 

"I  think  not,"  said  Thorne,  as  he  gazed  in  de- 
spair at  the  ponderous  volumes  before  him.  "I 
guess  you've  nearly  tested  the  power  of  the  Eng- 
lish language." 

"Are  there  any  other  communications?"  asked 
Verbum. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  clerk,  reading  one  from  the 
trustees  of  the  town  library,  asking  for  a  dona- 
tion of  books. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Verbum,  "that  charity 
should  inaugurate  proceedings  on  its  own  native 
heath.  But  I  merely  throw  this  out  as  a  super- 


386    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

erogatory,  metaphysical  suggestion.  What  are 
the  wishes  of  the  assembly?" 

"I  move,"  said  a  member,  "that  the  communi- 
cation lie  on  the  table."  And  it  was  accordingly 
tabled. 

"There  being  no  other  messages  before  the 
house,"  said  the  President,  "we  will  now  take 
cognizance  of  the  protocol  of  the  chairman  of 
the  committee  on  'News  About  Town.'  ' 

"In  our  last  report,"  began  Will  Stoakes,  "we 
gave  an  account  of  an  attempt  by  some  of  the 
musically  inclined  boys  to  whip  the  clergyman, 
and  also  the  outcome.  But  we  were  unable  at 
that  time  to  state  the  cause  of  the  belligerent  atti- 
tude of  the  parties.  It  seems,  a  short  time  ago  the 
St.  Arlyle  amateur  brass  band  attended  the  funeral 
of  one  of  the  firemen,  and  when  they  had 
squelched  out,  at  the  side  of  the  grave  what  they 
called  'The  Sweet  By  and  By'  in  a  tune  that  re- 
sembled a  cross  between  the  howl  of  a  hyena  and 
the  whine  of  a  dying  pup  (in  fact  it  was  such  a 
dismal  discord  that  several  persons  in  the  rear 
looked  over  the  other's  shoulders  to  see  what 
kind  of  an  animal  they  were  torturing),  the  min- 
ister in  his  address  said  that  'the  deceased  was, 
in  one  respect,  fortunate  in  being  thus  called 
early.'  That  was  all  he  remarked,  but  a  great 
many  people  grinned,  and  the  amateur  'wind- 
jammers' said  that  his  infernal  sarcasm  was  en- 
tirely out  of  place  at  a  funeral." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Ed  Thorne,  "the  minister 
merely  threw  it  out  as  a  supererogatory,  meta- 
physical suggestion." 

"Maybe   he    did,"    replied   Stoakes,    "but   the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      387 

*  wind-jammers'  felt  exceedingly  warlike  about  it, 
and  called  upon  the  minister,  with  the  results  we 
have  already  related. 

At  this  juncture  one  of  the  Vandals,  who  was 
standing  in  the  doorway  holding  a  whispered  con- 
versation with  some  one  outside,  advanced  to  the 
middle  of  the  room  and  raised  his  hand,  to  at- 
tract the  President's  attention. 

"Mr.  Brown  has  the  floor,"  said  Verbum. 

"There's  a  nigger  out  there,"  said  the  mem- 
ber, with  a  jerk  of  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder, 
"who  wishes  to  be  admitted  to  the  floor.  He 
says  he  was  in  the  war." 

"That  is  not  the  way  to  speak,  sir.  You  should 
say  'gentleman  of  color.'  ' 

"Yes,  he's  got  the  color,  for  he's  as  black  as 
the  ace  of  spades!" 

"What  is  the  wish  of  the  assembly?"  asked 
Verbum. 

"Admit  him!"  shouted  the  members,  who  had 
a  penchant  for  anyone  who  had  served  in  the 
war. 

The  negro  entered,  and  as  he  took  a  seat  and 
gazed  at  Verbum  in  wonder,  he  exclaimed: 
"Golly!  don't  he  smoke  a  big  pipe!" 

Then  President  Verbum,  without  noticing  his 
remark,  began  to  interrogate  him  as  follows: 

"What  is  your  name?" 

"James  Caesar,  sah." 

"Where  were  you  born?*' 

"In  Norf  Carolina,  sah." 

"How  long  were  you  in  the  war?" 

"Nine  months,  sah." 

"Where  were  you?     In  what  army,  I  mean." 


3 88    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"I  wuz  five  months  in  de  hospital,  sah." 
-   "Where  were  you  the  other  four  months?" 

"I  wuz — I  wuz  looking  for  de  hospital,  sah.'* 

"Sergeant-at-arms!"  shouted  Verbum,  "care- 
fully eliminate  the  gentleman  of  color  from  this 
assembly." 

The  sergeant-at-arms  sat  his  huge  stuffed  club 
by  the  door  and  then  went  for  the  darkey,  and  as 
he  caught  him  by  the  ear,  he  said  in  a  stage  whis- 
per: "Come,  Mr.  Csesar!  Get!  Skip!  Shake 
a  leg!  Make  your  conge!"  He  led  the  black- 
amoor to  the  door,  and  seizing  his  club,  he  gave 
him  a  blow  in  the  rear  that  hoisted  him  a  dozen 
feet  into  the  street. 

As  the  colored  gentleman  gathered  himself  out 
of  the  dust  he  exclaimed: 

"Golly!  Boss,  dat  wuz  a  terrible  hist!  But 
I'll  clean  out  de  whole  institution!" 

"In  the  words  of  Homer,"  said  Verbum, 
"  'Thy  aid  we  need  not,  and  thy  threats  defy/ 
And  I  hope  your  conge  is  a  supererogatory, 
metaphysical  suggestion  that  no  imposters  can 
foist  themselves  upon  this  body." 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       389 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

THE  VANDAL  CONGRESS,  CONTINUED. 

Yes,  we're  boys — always  playing  with   tongue  or  with  pen! 
And  I  sometimes  have  asked,  Shall  we  ever  be  men? 
Shall  we  always  be  youthful,  and  laughing,  and  gay, 
Till  the  last  dear  companion  drops  smiling  away? 
Then  here's  to  our  boyhood,  its  gold  and  its  gray! 
The  stars  of  its  winter,  the  dews  of  its  May! 

— O.  W.  Holmes. 

"The  report  of  the  Chairman  of  the  Hymeneal 
Committee  is  now  in  order/'  said  Verbum. 

Pete  Hale  began:  "Mr.  President:  During 
the  past  week  there  have  been  several  marriages, 
or,  to  express  it  more  poetically,  several  youths 
and  maidens  have  caught  the  ethereal  fragrance 
of  love,  or,  to  use  the  words  of  Homer,  have 
themselves  been  caught  by  the  'The  old,  yet  still 
successful  cheat  of  love.' 

"The  marriage  we  have  to  report  is  that  of 
James  King  to  Nelly  Slave.  They  are  of  a  nubile 
age  and  new  people  in  the  village,  and  we  have 
not  been  able  to  learn  much  about  them;  but  in 
the  words  of  the  poet: 

"  'Love  thou  are  not  a  King  alone ; 

Both  Slave  and  King  thou  art. 
Who  seeks  to  sway,  must  stoop  to  own 
The  Kingdom  of  the  heart.' 

"It  is  with  pleasure,"  continued  Hale,  "that 
we  announce  the  marriage  of  Charles  Havens  to 


390    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

Emily  Thorne,  for  it  is  the  consummation  of  a 
life-long  love.  He  is  generous,  brave  and  hand- 
some; a  man  and  a  scholar,  with  a  noble,  tender 
and  true  heart,  that  the  girl  who  has  won  it  must 
dearly  prize. 

"She  is  a  charming,  accomplished  little  brunette, 
with  a  sweet,  winning  way.  She  is  a  noble  little 
lady,  with  a  warm,  pure  heart,  an  originality  about 
her  that  is  ever  fresh  and  pure,  while  her  sunny 
smile  and  sympathy  have  won  the  love  of  young 
and  old.  And  to  him  who  has  won  her  she  is 
more  than  a  golden  prize,  for  she  is  a  treasury  of 
sympathy,  courage  and  love! 

"And  undoubtedly  they  have  both  realized  their 
ideals;  he  in  the  fair,  sweet  girl,  with  a  noble 
heart;  and  she  in  the  man  who,  despite  the  world's 
sordid  touch,  still  possesses  a  bright  record,  with- 
out a  blot!  And  may  he  long  realize  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  lines: 

'Oh,  pleasant  is  the  welcome  kiss, 
When  the  day's  dull  round  is  o'er, 

And  sweet  the  music  of  the  step 
That  meets  us  at  the  door.'" 

"There  is,"  continued  Hale,  ua  prospective 
marriage  on  the  tapis,  that  of  our  esthetic  friend 
Fred  Stone  to  a  city  girl.  I  saw  him  out  buggy 
riding  with  his  inamorata  the  other  day,  driving 
a  piebald  horse,  and  as  the  poet  says: 

'I  saw  the  curl  of  his  waving  lash, 
And  the  glance  of  his  knowing  eye, 

And  I  knew  he  thought  he  was  cutting  a  dash, 
As  his  steed  went  thundering  by.'" 

As  Pete  Hale  finished  speaking  there  came  a 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      391 

series  of  loud  raps  at  the  door,  and  the  sergeant- 
at-arms  hastened  to  it.  When  he  opened  the  door 
and  gazed  out,  there  came  over  his  face  a  strong 
expression  of  surprise,  which  each  moment  in- 
creased, as  he  dropped  his  club  and  his  eyes  and 
his  mouth  opened  in  wonder  to  their  full  extent. 
Then,  recovering  his  self-possession,  he  flung  the 
door  wide  open,  and  in  stepped  Professor  Phan- 
tom, tall,  gaunt,  grim,  ghostly  as  ever !  In  an  in- 
stant every  member  of  the  club  was  on  his  feet 
in  amazement,  for  it  had  been  reported  that 
Phantom  had  died,  and  had  been  buried  nearly  a 
year  before;  in  fact,  several  persons  in  the  village 
claimed  that  they  had  attended  his  funeral.  When 
the  yandals  recovered  from  their  momentary 
surprise  they  eagerly  crowded  around  Phantom, 
and  as  they  shook  hands  with  him  they  greeted 
him  with  such  expressions  as:  "How  are  you, 
Ghost ?"  "Hello,  Goblin!  What's  the  news 
from  Hades ?"  "How  are  you,  Professor  Spook? 
You're  the  same  old  rattlebones."  "Why,  you're 
as  fat  as  a  match!"  and  numerous  similar  expres- 
sions. But  Phantom  bore  their  raillery  and  gibes 
good-naturedly,  and  even  seemed  pleased  at  their 
hearty  welcome.  When  order  had  been  restored 
Phantom  said: 

"Mr.  President  and  members  of  the  Vandal 
Congress:  It  is  with  a  world  of  pleasure  that  I 
receive  your  kindly  greeting,  and  my  heart  tells 
me  that  I  am  again  among  friends.  Life  has 
many  trials  and  vicissitudes,  but  I  feel,  to  use  a 
classical  phrase,  Post  tot  naufragia  portum — 
after  many  shipwrecks,  I  have  found  a  harbor.  I 
am  growing  old,  and  cannot  bear  the  fluctuating 


392    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

tide  of  fickle  fortune  as  in  former  years.  And  I 
am  aware  that  the  rejuvenescence  of  youth  has 
departed,  and  I  shall  never  begin  in  the  incipiency 
of  things  again." 

"No,"  said  Verbum,  "when  nature  makes  a 
miscalculation,  she  never  repeats  the  identical  ex- 
periment, at  least  not  with  the  same  material." 

"Exactly,"  said  Phantom,  "and  I'm  content  to 
say,  in  the  words  of  the  poet: 

'Fortune  and  Hope,  farewell !    I've  gained  the  port ; 
You've  fooled  me  long — make  others  now  your  sport.' " 

"Or,  in  the  words  of  Homer,"  replied  Verbum: 

"  The  field  of  combat  fits  the  young  and  bold ; 
The  solemn  council  best  becomes  the  old.' " 

"Very  appropriate,  Mr.  President,  very  appro- 
priate!" 

"I  merely  threw  it  out  as  a  supererogatory, 
metaphysical  suggestion." 

"I  move,"  said  a  Vandal,  "that  Professor 
Phanton  be  elected  a  member  of  the  Vandal  Con- 
gress." 

"He  was  a  whilom  member,  was  he  not?" 
asked  Verbum. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  clerk,  after  he  had  exam- 
ined the  roll. 

"Then  he  is  already  a  Vandal.  For,  like  the 
College  of  Cardinals,  once  a  Cardinal,  always 
a  Cardinal,  so  it  is  with  this  body,  once  a  Vandal, 
always  a  Vandal.  Only  the  King  of  Terrors  can 
remove  a  member." 

At  this  moment  a  card  was  sent  in  from  the 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      393 

'door,  bearing  a  request  to  see  Verbum.  He  im- 
mediately called  Will  Stoakes  to  the  chair  and 
left  the  room. 

As  Verbum  left  the  room  Ed  Thorne  arose  and 
said:  "Mr.  President:  I  was  never  so  surprised 
in  my  life  as  when  I  saw  our  illustrious  friend  Pro- 
fessor Phantom  enter  the  room,  after  so  many 
of  our  citizens  had  attended  his  funeral,  and  it  re- 
minds me  forcibly  of  a  story,  which  runs  as  fol- 
lows: 

"Two  sailors  with  a  tame  parrot  one  night  went 
to  a  sleight-of-hand  show,  held  in  the  upper  part 
of  a  warehouse  in  New  Orleans.  Although  the 
three  constituted  the  entire  audience,  the  showman 
proceeded  with  the  performance.  He  was  very 
clever  and  performed  some  very  wonderful  tricks, 
so  that  he  greatly  excited  the  amazement  of  one 
of  the  sailors,  who  after  every  feat  of  jugglery 
would  exclaim: 

"  'That's  pretty  good!  I  wonder  what  he'll  do 
next?' 

"After  awhile  the  silent  sailor  asked  leave  to 
smoke  his  pipe,  which  was  granted,  'seeing,'  as 
the  magician  remarked,  'there  were  no  ladies 
present.'  Thus  the  performance  proceeded,  one 
of  the  sailors  smoking  his  pipe  in  silence,  while 
the  other  would  exclaim  after  every  trick: 

"  'That's  pretty  good !  I  wonder  what  he'll 
do  next?' 

"At  last  the  sailor  of  few  words  grew  tired  of 
smoking,  and  knocked  the  hot  ashes  from  his  pipe 
through  a  knot-hole  in  the  floor,  all  unconscious 
that  four  hundred  tons  of  gunpowder  were  stored 
below ! 


394    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"In  an  instant  they  were  all,  with  the  exception 
of  the  parrot,  blown  to  the  kingdom  to  come. 
The  parrot  was  blown  about  three  miles  into  the 
air  and  across  the  Mississippi  River,  where  it 
came  down  with  the  loss  of  its  wings,  one  eye 
and  a  leg,  while  its  tail  feathers  were  burned  off. 
As  the  bird  flopped  down  on  a  post  on  its  only 
remaining  leg,  it  shrieked  wildly: 

"  That's  pretty  good!  I  wonder  what  he'll  do 
next?'" 

Just  as  Thorne  concluded  his  narrative  Verbum 
entered,  and  in  answer  to  Stoake's  offer  to  vacate 
the  chair,  he  said:  "No,  retain  the  chair;  I  wish 
to  make  a  few  remarks.  I  was  never  so  aston- 
ished in  my  life,"  he  began,  uas  when  our  quon- 
dam and  illustrious  compatriot,  Professor  Phan- 
tom, appeared  before  us.  That  mortal  man  could 
appear  again  after  so  many  of  the  denizens  of  our 
village  had  attended  his  obsequies,  and  after  the 
Vandal  Congress  had  given  him  such  a  brilliant 
obituary,  is  astounding  to  a  marvelous  degree ! 
And  I  can  only  portray  my  wonderment  by  the 
ensuing  apologue,  which,  with  the  acquiescence  of 
this  august  body,  I  will  proceed  to  annunciate : 

"Two  mariners,  accompanied  by  a  domesticated 
scansorial  avis,  on  a  nocturnal  occasion,  attended 
an  exhibition  of  the  Theurgic  art  in  the  metrop- 
olis of  New  Orleans.  Although  they  constituted 
the  entire  audience,  nevertheless  the  nomadic  pres- 
tidigitator inaugurated  proceedings  in  the  esoteric 
science.  The  disciple  of  magic  eventuated  to  very 
expert  and  daedalian,  in  performing  remarkable 
mysticism,  so  that  he  engendered  the  prodigious 
amazement  of  one  of  the  sons  of  Neptune,  who, 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      395 

subsequent  to  every  conguration,  would  vocifer- 
ate: 

"  'Trismegistus !  but  that  trenches  on  the  admir- 
able. My  curiosity  becomes  procreated  to  become 
cognizant  of  what  he  will  effectuate  in  the  fu- 
turity?' 

"Subsequently  the  taciturn  mariner  solicited 
permission  to  produce  the  ebolition  of  a  jag  of 
tobacco  in  his  chiboque,  as  it  was  his  assuetude  to 
do,  which,  owing  to  the  fair  daughters  of  Eve 
being  reduced  to  nihility,  was  accordingly  con- 
ceded. Thus  proceeded  the  concatenation  of 
events  in  the  accrescent  mystical  seance,  one  of 
the  sons  of  Neptune  performing  an  ebolition  on 
his  nargile,  or  dudeen,  while  the  other  vociferated 
in  the  sequel  of  each  prestidigitation: 

'Trismegistus !  but  that  trenches  on  the  ad- 
mirable. My  curiosity  becomes  procreated  to  be- 
come cognizant  of  what  he  will  effectuate  in  the 
futurity?' 

uBy  way  of  a  denouement,  or  finale,  the  pauc- 
iloquent  sailor  became  surfeited  with  the  ebolition 
of  tobacco,  and  insidiously  collided  the  glowing 
embers  from  his  calumet,  through  an  aperture  in 
the  floor,  unaware  of  the  existence  beneath  of 
four  hundred  tons  of  a  highly  explosive  material. 
In  an  infinitesimal  duration,  they  were  evaporated 
across  the  Stygian  torrent  into  the  Elysian  arena, 
with  the  subduction  of  the  scansorial  bird,  who 
was  ejaculated  a  league  into  space,  over  the  Mis- 
sissippi cataclysm,  minus  his  pennate  attachments, 
also  an  orb  of  sight  and  one  pedal  extremity,  while 
his  plumage  was  considerably  incinerated.  As  he 
descended  upon  a  timber  projecting  from  this  ter- 


396    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

restrial  sphere,  on  his  only  remaining  pedal  ex- 
tremity, he  pragmatically  vociferated,  with  a 
Machiayelian  sneer: 

'Trismegistus !  but  that  trenches  on  the  ad- 
mirable. My  curiosity  becomes  procreated  to  be- 
come cognizant  of  what  he  will  effectuate  in  the 
futurity!*' 

When  Verbum  ceased  speaking  Jake  Metzler 
:(whom  the  reader  will  remember  as  the  hero  of 
the  long  retreat  from  Bull  Run),  arose  and  re- 
marked: "Mr.  Bresident:  If  I  don't  vas  mis- 
taken, it  seems  to  me  dot  I've  heard  dot  sthory 
before." 

This  remark  was  the  signal  for  a  roar  of  laugh- 
ter, while  Jake  looked  around  in  wonder  at  their 
merriment. 

Verbum  resumed  the  chair,  and  said:  "We 
will  now  hear  the  report  of  the  Chairman  of  the 
Committee  on  Revenge." 

Joe  Hart,  the  Chairman  of  the  Committee, 
arose  and  began:  "Mr.  President:  Old  Jack 
Hall  made  various  defamatory  and  threatening 
remarks  concerning  the  Vandals,  so  the  other 
night  we  greased  and  soaped  his  back  porch.  And 
the  next  morning,  when  the  old  codger  went  out 
to  get  a  pail  of  water  his  heels  flew  out  from  under 
him  and  he  made  an  attempt  to  stand  on  his  head. 

"Did  he  succeed?"  asked  a  Vandal. 

"I  think  the  old  buccaneer  did  pretty  well,  for 
he's  had  his  neck  wrapped  in  flannel  ever  since. 

"Mrs.  Daggletail  Brown  says  she  is  going  to 
have  us  all  arrested  for  slander." 

"I  move,"  said  a  Vandal,  "that  the  matter  be 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE       397 

referred  to  the  Judiciary  Committee,  with  power 
to  act." 

It  was  so  ordered. 

"And,"  said  the  Chairman  of  the  Judiciary 
Committee,  "we'll  give  the  old  potwolloper  all 
the  law  she  wants. 

As  Hart  sat  down  President  Verbum  said:  "I 
have  been  consulting  with  a  number  of  the  mem- 
bers of  this  body,  and  I  would  throw  out  as  a 
supererogatory,  metaphysical  suggestion,  that 
with  this  meeting  the  duties  of  the  Committee  on 
Revenge  be  discontinued — in  other  words,  that  its 
labors  cease.  There  is  an  old  Latin  proverb 
which  says,  Miserrima  fortuna  est  quce  inimico 
caret — That  is  a  most  miserable  fortune,  which 
is  without  an  enemy.  And  undoubtedly  there  is 
a  great  deal  of  truth  in  the  aphorism.  For  a 
person  without  an  enemy  would  be  a  kind  of 
nonentity — anyhow  he  would  not  be  apt  to  have 
a  great  deal  of  conviviality.  And  the  person  who 
revenges  every  injury  that  is  done  him  has  no 
time  for  anything  else.  If  we  wish  to  make  our 
lives  a  success  we  can  afford  to  let  the  dogs  bark 
as  we  go  by.  In  every  community  there  is  al- 
ways a  class  of  popinjays  and  old  idiots  who  are 
envious  of  anyone  whom  they  think  is  superior 
to  them  in  education  and  intelligence,  and  they 
think  it  necessary  to  wag  their  slanderous  tongues. 
The  Chinese  have  a  maxim  that  somewhat  illus- 
trates this  point;  it  is:  Towers  are  measured  by 
their  shadows,  great  men  by  those  who  are  en- 
vious of  them." 

"That's  us"  said  a  Vandal  in  the  rear. 

"Not  exactly,"  replied  Verbum.    "  Tools  rush 


398     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

in  where  angels  fear  to  tread/  But  still  this  ex- 
emplifies the  trite  fact  that  idiots  are  always  en- 
vious of  those  whom  they  believe  to  be  their  su- 
periors. But  the  best  way  is  to  treat  this  class — 
be  they  tatterdemalions,  walleteers  or  plutocrats 
— with  silent  contempt.  Though,  at  the  same 
time,  it  is  well,  to  use  the  words  of  the  philoso- 
pher Pittacus,  'To  watch  your  opportunity.'  " 

The  motion  of  Stoakes  to  discontinue  the  Com- 
mittee on  Revenge  was  then  put  and  carried,  and 
Verbum  then  called  for  the  report  of  the  Chair- 
man of  the  Committee  on  Temperance. 

For  the  Vandal  Congress  had  become  a  temper- 
ance organization.  Who  had  been  the  prime 
mover  in  effecting  it  was  an  enigma  none  could 
solve.  But  one  night,  at  a  special  meeting,  they 
resolved  themselves  into  a  temperance  body,  and 
they  did  it  with  a  great  deal  of  style  and  eclat. 
They  made  speeches  on  temperance,  and  repeated 
and  read  all  the  Bacchanalian  poetry  they  knew 
or  had  ever  heard.  Then  they  brought  out  the 
famous  "little  brown  jug,"  full  of  whiskey,  and 
put  into  it  aquae  ammonia,  aloes,  asafoetida  and 
various  other  nauseous  mixtures,  then,  filling  their 
glasses  from  its  contents,  they  invited  each  other 
to  drink. 

After  their  carnival  of  fun  they  proceeded  to 
business — and  they  did  not  do  things  by  halves. 
They  passed  a  set  of  laws  making  the  penalty  for 
the  first  offense  (drinking  liquor)  suspension  from 
the  club  for  six  months,  and  for  a  second,  and 
each  succeeding  offense,  suspension  for  a  year. 
But  they  allowed  the  accused  a  trial  before  a  jury 
of  his  peers,  and  also  counsel,  but  at  the  same 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      399 

time  they  took  the  precaution  to  elect  a  prosecut- 
ing attorney,  whose  duty  it  was  to  proceed  against 
the  accused.  Ed  Thorne,  who  was  a  law  student, 
had  been  chosen  for  this  office. 

The  Chairman  of  the  Temperance  Committee 
arose  and  said:  "We  have  but  one  offender  to 
report — Jake  Metzler.  He  was  discovered  in 
flagrate  delicto — in  the  very  act  of  drinking  a 
glass  of  lager  beer." 

uHas  any  information  been  filed  against  him?" 
asked  Verbum. 

"Yes,  Mr.  President,"  replied  Thorne. 

"Has  the  accused  counsel?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Pete  Hale,  a  law  student,  "I 
am  acting  for  the  defense.  And  I  will  state  that 
the  accused  pleads  not  guilty,  and  that  the  ground 
of  defense  is  impulsive  or  emotional  insanity." 
Then,  turning  to  Bill  Stoakes,  a  medical  student, 
he  said  in  a  whisper:  "Bill,  you  had  better  read 
up  on  'Insanity  in  its  Relation  to  Crime,'  as  I  shall 
call  you  as  an  expert." 

"Then,"  said  Verbum,  "the  trial  is  set  for  the 
next  regular  meeting  of  the  Congress,  at  which 
time  you  are  expected  to  have  your  witnesses  and 
experts  here. 

"Owing  to  the  lateness  of  the  evening,"  con- 
tinued the  President,  "and  the  somnolence  of 
some  of  the  members,  we  will  postpone  the  report 
of  the  Committee  on  Incidents  of  the  War,  and 
hear  the  report  of  the  librarian,  after  which  we 
will  prorogue  this  session  of  the  Congress." 

Ed  Tkorne,  the  librarian,  arose  and  said: 
"Since  the  last  session  we  have  purchased  the  En- 
cyclopedia Britannica,  the  Imperial  Dictionary, 


400    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

and  Froissart's  Chronicles,  and  have  received  by 
donation  eight  volumes." 

As  Thorne  resumed  his  seat  Verbum  said: 
"The  motion  to  adjourn  is  now  in  order." 

And  in  a  few  minutes  more  the  lights  were  ex- 
tinguished, and  the  Vandals  were  filing  into  the 
dark  street.  And  now,  gentle  reader,  wishing 
them  godspeed  and  prosperity,  we  bid  farewell 
to  the  budding  potentates  of  the  future ! 

CHAPTER  XLVI. 


HOME  AGAIN  IN  ST.  ARLYLE. 

I've  wandered  on  through  many  a  clime  where  flowers 

of  beauty  grew, 
Where  all  was  blissful  to  the  heart  and  lovely 

to  the  view — 
I've  seen  them  in  their  twilight  pride,  and  in  their 

dress  of  morn, 
But  none  appeared  so  dear  to  me  as  the  spot  where 

I  was  born.  — Anonymous. 

General  Charlie  Landon,  after  his  return  from 
the  geological  expedition  in  South  America,  about 
four  months  before,  had  been  residing  in  the  city 
near  St.  Arlyle,  but  the  fame  he  had  won  as  a 
scientist  had  preceded  him,  until  his  renown  as 
a  scientist  rivaled  and  even  exceeded  his  brilliant 
career  as  a  soldier.  Fortune,  too,  that  fickle  god- 
dess, had  smiled  generously  upon  him.  But  de- 
spite his  fame  and  fortune,  there  came  an  almost 
irresistible  longing  to  go  back  to  the  quiet  little 
village  of  St.  Arlyle,  the  home  of  his  boyhood  and 
early  manhood,  around  which  clung  the  sweetest 
and  dearest  memories  of  all  the  halcyon  days  of 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      401 

his  youth,  when  "life  seemed  bathed  in  Hope's 
romantic  hues."  Those  happy,  careless  days,  col- 
ored in  sweetest  memories  by  the  golden  light  of 
love! 

Some  one  has  said  that  little  villages  are  the 
nearest  to  earthly  atoms  of  shattered  paradise, 
and  I  think  that  no  truer  words  were  ever  written. 
There  is  a  charm  about  a  little  village  that  a  city 
can  never  possess.  For  in  a  great  metropolis 
one's  individuality  is  so  completely  buried  in  the 
large  mass  of  people  that  if  he  falls  from  the 
ranks  he  is  as  little  missed — except  by  his  nearest 
circle  of  friends — as  would  be  a  wave  on  a  mighty 
ocean's  breast;  but  in  a  village  there  is  a  per- 
sonality— the  whole  village  know  each  other;  they 
may  gossip  about  one,  and,  to  use  a  hyperbole, 
know  one's  own  business  better  than  he  does  him- 
self. But,  after  all,  it  shows  an  interest  in  one, 
and  often  not  an  unkindly  feeling,  though  some- 
times roughly  expressed,  but  still  never  with  that 
careless  viciousness  we  too  often  see  in  a  city. 
As  we  have  said,  the  village  people  know  nearly 
all  about  each  other's  affairs,  and  take  more  than 
a  passing  interest  in  them.  The  last  marriage 
has  been  weighed  and  discussed  by  them,  even 
when  the  young  people  first  became  engaged,  and 
then  they  always  throw  a  tinge  of  romance  around 
the  young  couple's  matrimonial  bliss,  with  sincere 
wishes  for  their  future  welfare.  Births,  too,  re- 
ceived their  share  of  attention,  for  when  Ned 
and  Nelly  become  the  parents  of  a  baby  the  event 
is  thoroughly  discussed.  And  lastly,  when  death 
reaps  one  of  the  town's  citizens  there  are  always 
true  regrets  at  his  loss;  for,  unlike  the  busier 


402    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

world,  they  have  time  to  feel  and  soothe  another's 
woe. 

Nearly  all  men  keep  some  little  village  in  re- 
serve for  a  home  in  case  of  mischance  or  mis- 
fortune, or  when  they  become  tired  of  the  worry 
of  society.  And  what  a  sweet  rest  it  often  proves 
to  bankrupts  in  trade,  mortified  pleaders  in  courts 
and  senates,  victims  of  idleness  and  pleasure,  or 
men  who  have  brilliantly  succeeded  in  the  great 
world,  but  found  at  last  that  the  world's  greatest 
honors  were  simply  dross,  and  what  their  hearts 
needed  most  was  peace  and  love! 

And  so  they  are  all  given — regardless  of  their 
former  glories,  mischances  or  defeats — a  place  in 
the  little  commonwealth,  and  they  soon  learn  to 
like  the  little  world  far  better  than  they  ever  did 
the  great  one.  For  we  nearly  always  find  that 
little  things  are  the  sweetest.  Little  cottages  are 
generally  the  most  cozy,  little  farms  the  best  tilled, 
little  books  the  most  read,  little  songs  the  most 
sung,  little  words  the  sweetest,  little  lakes  the 
stillest,  and  little  hearts  the  fullest.  Everyone 
calls  that  little  which  he  loves  best  and  dearest 
on  earth.  And  Nature,  too,  when  she  makes  any- 
thing supremely  beautiful  and  rare,  makes  it  little 
— little  diamonds,  little  pearls  and  little  rubies. 
And  so  I  shall  always  think  that  little  villages  are 
the  nearest  earthly  atoms  of  shattered  paradise! 

As  we  have  remarked,  there  came  a  longing,  an 
irresistible  desire  in  Landon's  heart  to  roam  again 
among  the  hills  and  vales  of  St.  Arlyle.  The  spot 
around  which  his  heart's  sweetest  and  tenderest 
memories  of  bygone  years  still  clung;  and  though 
he  felt  Bertha's  love  was  lost  to  him  forever,  still 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      403 

there  came  a  longing  in  his  heart  to  revisit  the 
old  scenes,  where  they  had  spent  such  blissful  days 
together,  and  to  live  them  over  in  imagination, 
if  not  in  reality.  Days,  as  he  looked  back  to  them, 
that  seemed  embalmed  with  a  touch  of  paradise. 
And  no  words  can  express  how  deeply  and  sin- 
cerely he  regretted  his  rash  act  of  doubting  Ber- 
tha's constancy,  and  flinging  away  her  love.  "It 
was,11  he  thought  over  and  over  again,  "a  mad, 
foolish  course  to  pursue,  but  I  have  suffered  dearly 
for  it.  But  I  deserve  it  all,  and  even  more." 

So  one  fine  summer  day  Charles  Landon  left  his 
office  and  turned  down  a  street  of  the  city  leading 
toward  the  railway  station,  from  whence  the  cars 
ran  to  St.  Arlyle.  When  he  reached  the  station 
he  glanced  at  his  watch  and  found  that  he  had 
nearly  an  hour  to  wait  before  the  departure  of 
the  train.  Nearly  opposite  the  station  stood  the 
Academy  of  Art,  and  as  he  gazed  toward  it,  he 
noticed  an  announcement  in  front  of  the  build- 
ing that  there  was  then  being  held  a  grand  exhibi- 
tion of  paintings  by  local  and  foreign  artists.  He 
was  very  fond  of  art,  and  quite  a  connoisseur  of 
paintings,  so  he  crossed  the  street  and  entered  the 
Academy.  There  was  a  large  crowd  of  spectators 
present  and  he  found  the  exhibition  of  paintings 
a  very  valuable  and  extensive  one,  so  he  strolled 
along  for  some  time,  examining  them,  when  his 
attention  was  attracted  by  an  unusual  crowd 
around  a  painting  at  the  farther  end  of  the  hall, 
which,  from  the  attention  it  attracted,  seemed  to 
be  the  gem  of  the  collection.  As  he  approached 
it,  almost  at  the  first  glance  there  was  something 
that  struck  him  as  unusually  familiar  about  the 


404    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

scene  it  represented.  In  a  few  moments  he  recog- 
nized the  painting  as  a  representation  of  the  room 
in  which  he  had  lain  wounded  so  many  weeks  after 
the  battle  of  Gettysburg.  That  room,  he  felt  he 
could  never  forget,  for  every  lineament  of  it  was 
indelibly  impressed  on  his  mind  during  those  long 
days  of  suffering  and  weeks  of  convalescence. 

The  painting  was  simply  entitled,  "For  His 
,  Country,"  and  represented  a  medium-sized  apart- 
ment, with  a  bed  in  one  corner,  upon  which  a 
wounded  soldier  was  lying,  while  in  the  distance, 
through  the  open  window,  could  be  seen  a  battle 
raging,  amid  fire  and  smoke.  The  wounded  man 
was  attired  in  the  full  uniform  of  an  officer,  and 
the  blood  from  his  wounds  was  yet  fresh,  bespat- 
tering the  breast  of  his  dark  blue  coat,  and  partly 
crimsoning  the  golden  star  in  the  insignia  of  his 
rank,  on  one  of  his  shoulders.  His  head  was 
resting  on  one  arm,  and  the  face  was  partly  turned 
toward  the  wall,  but  there  were  enough  of  its 
lineaments  portrayed  for  Charles  Landon  to  rec- 
ognize it  as  a  copy  of  his  own  face.  The  picture 
had  evidently  been  painted  by  a  master  hand,  and 
it  was  fascinatingly  realistic  to  Landon,  as  he 
observed  that  not  a  particular  of  the  scene  had 
been  omitted.  The  old-fashioned  chairs,  the 
stand,  and  the  pictures  on  the  walls,  were  all  por- 
trayed there,  while  even  the  red  climbing  roses, 
nodding  in  at  the  window,  had  not  been  forgot- 
ten. How  well  he  remembered  them,  when,  after 
nights  of  pain  and  delirium,  he  awoke  and  saw 
them  on  their  long,  pendant  stems  waft  through 
the  open  window  in  the  warm  July  air,  till  in  his 
feverish  imagination  they  seemed  like  human 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      405 

heads  nodding  him  a  good  morning  and  endeavor- 
ing to  encourage  him  in  his  struggle  with  death. 
And  the  mythological  picture  on  the  wall — Her- 
cules's  contest  with  the  Nemean  lion — had  been 
reproduced  with  all  the  fidelity  of  the  original. 
What  memories,  too,  that  picture  awakened  of 
those  bygone  days — when  the  spark  of  life  flick- 
ered but  feebly  in  his  body,  and  his  feverish  brain 
in  its  semi-consciousness  often  took  the  shadow 
for  the  substance — and  he  gazed  upon  it  like  one 
under  a  spell,  till  in  his  feverish  fancy  the  actors 
became  endowed  with  life,  and  the  struggle  be- 
tween the  hero  and  the  beast  became  an  actual  one. 
Then  how  he  sympathized  with  the  hero,  and 
longed  for  his  victory. 

Charles  Landon  had  become  so  absorbed  in  the 
contemplation  of  the  painting  that  he  had  grown 
oblivious  to  all  around  him,  when  he  was  aroused 
from  his  reverie  by  becoming  aware  that  others 
beside  himself  had  noticed  his  resemblance  to  the 
portrait.  Not  wishing  to  attract  attention,  he 
modestly  turned  away,  but  not  before  he  had 
learned  that  the  artist's  name  was  Bertha  Merton! 

"Ah,"  he  thought,  as  he  saw  her  name  in  one 
corner  of  the  painting,  "that  accounts  for  its 
fidelity  to  the  original!  Perhaps,"  he  thought, 
"there  may  be  a  lingering  spark  of  the  old  love 
in  her  heart.  But  it  is  hardly  possible,  after  the 
brutal  way  I  acted  toward  her.  But  still,  'there 
are  more  things  in  heaven  and  earth  than  are 
dreamed  of  in  our  philosophy/  * 

Just  then  the  last  warning  peals  of  the  locomo- 
tive's bell  sounded,  and  he  hurried  from  the  build- 
ing and  entered  a  car. 


406    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

As  the  train  approached  St.  Arlyle  there  arose 
before  him,  as  if  by  magic,  the  old  scenes  of  his 
boyhood  he  knew  so  well,  lying  clear  and  calm 
in  the  light  of  that  beautiful  summer  afternoon. 
And  what  an  association  of  delightful  memories 
each  hill,  brook  and  meadow  brought  back  to  him. 

At  last  the  church  spires  and  the  taller  build- 
ings of  the  village  came  full  in  view,  lying  calm 
and  peaceful  in  the  summer  sunshine.  And  in  his 
heart  what  a  wealth  of  memories  clung  around 
them.  There  was  the  old  Haunted  House  on  the 
hill,  around  which  many  a  bright  fancy  clung,  and 
there  were  the  college  buildings,  in  which  he  had 
passed  many  a  happy  day,  and  there,  too,  was  the 
cottage  on  the  rising  ground  above  the  river,  a 
spot  doubly  dear  and  sweet  to  him,  for  it  was 
Bertha's  old  home.  At  last  the  train  ran  over  the 
bridge  across  the  river,  whose  waters  rippled  cool 
and  clear  beneath  the  shadows  that  fringed  its 
banks.  And  as  the  old  beloved  scenes  broke  be- 
fore him,  his  spirits  arose  as  if  by  enchantment, 
and  he  repeated  almost  passionately  the  lines  of 
the  poet : 

"I  am  come  again  with  summer, 

It  is  lovely  to  behold, 
Will  it  welcome  the  newcomer, 

As  it  used  to  do  of  old? 
Within  those  dark  green  covers, 

Whose  shade  is  downward  cast, 
How  many  a  memory  hovers 

Whose  light  is  from  the  past!" 

When  the  train  reached  the  station  and  Landon 
was  yet  stepping  from  the  car,  he  was  met  by 
Colonel  Tom  Gleaton. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      407 

"Ah,  General,"  said  Gleaton,  "welcome  back 
to  St.  Arlyle !  You  see  the  town  has  improved 
since  last  you  saw  it.  It  has  become  quite  a  fash- 
ionable watering-place.  We  publish  the  village 
paper  twice  a  week  now,  and  Fm  its  editor." 

"That's  the  very  profession  that  will  suit  your 
genius.  In  fact,  the  one  you've  been  looking  for 
for  years." 

"No,"  replied  Gleaton,  in  his  facetious  way, 
"it  is  journalism  that  has  been  searching  for  me. 
And  I've  no  doubt  it  would  have  languished,  had 
it  not  discovered  your  humble  servant." 

At  that  moment  Landon  was  surrounded  by  a 
host  of  old  friends,  who  profusely  expressed  their 
delight  in  welcoming  him  back  again. 

He  left  the  station  and  strolled  through  the 
village,  everywhere  meeting  with  friends,  who 
greeted  him  with  joyous  delight,  for  he  had  ever 
been  a  favorite  with  young  and  old  in  St.  Arlyle. 
He  visited  the  college  and  strolled  past  the 
Haunted  House — no  longer  haunted  now,  but  con- 
verted into  a  village  museum  and  library.  He 
stopped  in  front  of  Bertha's  old  home  and  gazed 
into  the  garden,  as  there  arose  in  his  heart  sweet 
memories  of  those  happy  bygone  days.  Then  he 
wandered  through  the  tangled  wood  to  the  river, 
and  along  its  bank,  watching  its  clear,  rippling 
waters  till  his  heart  grew  buoyant  and  joyous,  and 
he  lived  over  in  imagination — if  not  in  reality — 
those  old,  enchanted  days  again!  At  last  he 
reached  the  bridge,  where  he  and  Bertha  first  had 
met,  and  though  its  association  aroused  a  host  of 
pleasant  memories,  still  there  came  just  a  tinge  of 
sadness  on  his  handsome  face,  as  he  felt  she  was 


408    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

lost  to  him  forever,  though  her  image  would  ever 
remain  stamped  on  his  heart.  But  then  he 
thought : 


Tis  better  to  have  loved  and  lost, 
Than  never  to  have  loved  at  all." 


Man  bewails,  but  God  directs  in  His  mysterious 
way.  For  though  he  dared  not  even  dream  it, 
he  should  live  the  old  life  over  again,  in  all  its 
fullness  and  all  its  sweetness,  too! 

Toward  the  close  of  the  afternoon  he  strolled 
back  to  the  bay  and,  wandering  along  the  sandy 
beach  until  he  came  to  a  ledge  of  granite — tow- 
ering fully  forty  feet  above  the  beach — he  climbed 
to  the  summit  of  the  huge  rocks  and  stood  care- 
lessly gazing  at  the  blue  expanse  of  water,  and 
over  the  green  fields  and  pebbly  beach.  At  his 
feet  ran  the  curving  beach,  covered  with  boulders 
and  pebbles,  that  had  been  washed  shoreward  by 
many  a  winter's  storm.  In  front  lay  the  blue  wa- 
ters of  the  bay^reflecting  the  color  of  the  azure 
sky  above,  strerhing  miles  away,  and  sleeping  its 
peaceful  summer  sleep,  with  only  the  low  rumble 
of  the  surf  to  tell  of  the  pent  up  fury  and  mighty 
power  that  lay  dormant  in  its  peaceful  bosom. 
On  the  little  wharf  in  front  of  the  hotel  nearly 
three-quarters  of  a  mile  away,  were  several  par- 
ties of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  the  gay  garments 
of  the  former  adding  a  charm  to  the  picture,  while 
the  whole  was  far  enough  removed  from  the  spec- 
tator to  produce  a  pleasing  and  dreamy  effect, 
viewed  in  the  fading  light  of  that  summer  after- 
noon. As  he  yet  stood  watching  the  pier  a  little 
steamer  left  it  with  a  pleasure  party  on  board 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      409 

and  bore  directly  toward  the  immense  granite 
boulders.  As  the  boat  approached  there  was  the 
figure  of  a  lady  with  brown,  curly  hair  leaning  on 
the  railing  of  the  quarter-deck  that  particularly 
attracted  his  attention.  Although  her  back  was 
toward  him  there  was  something  unusually  fa- 
miliar about  her  handsome  figure. 

As  the  little  steamer  was  passing  within  thirty 
yards  of  the  cliff  on  which  he  stood  the  lady  sud- 
denly turned  by  some  unaccountable  impulse  and 
gazed  in  his  direction.  In  an  instant  he  recog- 
nized her — it  was  Bertha! 

As  she  saw  him  she  seemed  surprised  and  laid 
her  hand  upon  her  bosom  as  if  to  still  her  flut- 
tering heart  while  the  face  she  had  schooled  and 
controlled  so  often,  for  once  played  her  false,  for 
over  her  sweet  face  came  a  crimson  blush.  What 
a  depth  of  mystery  there  is  in  a  blush,  that  a  word, 
a  look,  or  a  thought  will  awaken,  sending  the  car- 
nation over  brow  and  cheek  like  the  soft  tint  of 
a  sky  at  sunset.  Wonderful,  too,  that  it  is  only 
the  face,  the  human  face,  that  can  blush.  It  has 
been  said  that  the  blush  of  modesty  tinted  the 
first  fair  woman's  cheek  when  she  first  awoke  in 
the  sunny  garden  of  Eden,  and  that  it  has  lingered 
with  Eve's  fair  daughters  ever  since.  It  has  also 
been  truly  remarked  that  the  face  is  the  tablet  of 
the  soul,  whereon  it  records  its  actions  and  its 
feelings.  And  so  thought  Charles  Landon  as  he 
saw  her  beautiful  face  flush,  and  it  emboldened 
him  and  he  resolved  that  before  another  day's 
sunset  he  would  win  her  heart  or  know  his  fate ! 

In  a  few  moments  Bertha  recovered  her  self- 
possession  and  saluted  him  with  a  graceful  bow 


4io    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

and  smile.  Instantly  Charles  Landon  raised  his 
hat  in  courteous  recognition  of  her  greeting,  while 
a  tender  light  broke  over  his  face  and  a  smile 
played  about  his  lips  which  was  plainly  visible,  for 
the  steamer  in  passing  was  not  more  than  thirty 
yards  distant.  And  standing  there,  high  among  the 
rocks,  with  the  waning  light  of  that  summer  after- 
noon falling  full  upon  his  handsome  face  and 
figure,  he  formed  a  picture  that  an  artist  would 
have  loved  to  paint!  And  no  wonder,  then,  that 
a  thrill  of  admiration  crossed  Bertha's  face  as  she 
noted  his  fine,  soldierly  bearing  and  the  erect  poise 
of  his  head,  crowned  with  its  dark  brown,  curly 
hair,  while  his  handsome  face  was  lit  with  a  rare, 
sweet  tenderness  she  remembered  so  well.  But 
there  came  a  remembrance  of  another  time,  when 
she  had  seen  that  face  glitter  with  daring  amid 
fire  and  smoke  on  the  battle  field  of  Gettysburg, 
but  she  could  not  help  thinking  that  she  liked  it 
better  illuminated  by  the  light  of  peace  than  she 
did  by  the  glitter  of  war. 

As  the  little  steamer  glided  away  the  last  beams 
of  the  sun  were  throwing  a  subdued  glory  over 
the  dark  blue  water  and  distant  hills,  while  amid 
the  dying  light  he  watched  Bertha's  beautiful 
girlish  figure  on  the  hurricane  deck  fade  from 
view  in  the  gathering  gloom.  The  sun  had  al- 
ready sunk  like  a  great  ball  of  refulgent  fire, 
leaving  clouds  of  the  brightest  crimson,  shading 
into  the  daintiest  of  roses  amid  borders  of  purple 
and  gold,  with  all  the  changing  splendor  of  Al- 
cinous's  golden-portaled  cities  in  his  empire  of  the 
clouds ! 

Night  had  closed  around  and  the  little  figure 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      411 

on  the  hurricane  deck  had  faded  from  his  view 
as  Landon  turned  to  leave  the  rock,  as  he  thought 
sadly:  "I've  little  hope  of  winning  back  the  old 
place  in  her  heart — but  still: 

"'He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much, 

Or  his  deserts  are  small, 
Who  fears  to  put  it  to  the  touch 
To  win  or  lose  it  all !' " 

CHAPTER  XLVIL 

UNDER  THE  LIGHT  OF  PEACE. 

He  might  have  took  his  answer  long  ago. — Shakespeare. 

Oh,  the  heart  that  has  truly  loved,  never  forgets, 

But  as  truly  loves  on  to  the  close, 
As  the  sun-flower  turns  on  her  god,  when  he  sets, 

The  same  look  which  she  turned  when  he  rose. 

— Moore. 

The  next  day  was  clear  and  bright,  and  the 
beautiful  country  around  lay  in  the  summer  sun- 
shine as  a  vivid  picture  before  him,  with  its  dark 
green  woods,  sloping  to  the  winding  river,  while 
the  rocky  hills  above,  at  whose  bases  lay  the  green 
meadows,  gradually  slanting  till  they  dipped  into 
the  bright  blue  waters  of  the  bay,  forming  a  fit- 
ting frame  for  the  rose-embowered  cottages  of 
the  village.  And  in  his  heart,  what  a  world  of 
memories  clung  around  those  familiar  scenes  of 
the  happy  days  gone  before.  So  deeply  had  he 
become  interested  in  the  old  scenes,  lit  by  their 
sweet  memories,  that  it  was  not  till  in  the  after- 
noon that  he  returned  to  the  seaside  hotel.  After 
lunch  he  lit  a  cigar,  and  strolling  into  the  park 


412     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

attached  to  the  hotel,  turned  into  a  path  that  led 
through  a  tangle  of  wild  roses  and  thick  pines, 
toward  the  river.  When  he  reached  the  end  of 
the  path  he  came  to  a  small  terrace  on  the  bank 
of  the  river,  and  there,  to  his  surprise,  on  a  rustic 
bench  beneath  the  shadow  of  an  oak,  Bertha  was 
sitting.  He  stopped  suddenly,  and  with  a  wildly 
beating  heart,  leaning  against  a  tree  behind  a 
cluster  of  bushes  that  hid  him  from  view  while 
he  feasted  his  eyes  on  the  lovely  picture  she 
formed  as  she  sat  thoughtfully  gazing  into  the 
river. 

He  had  always  considered  her  pretty  in  the 
happy  bygone  days  in  St.  Arlyle,  but  the  succeed- 
ing years  since  then  had  lavishly  ripened  and  per- 
fected the  girlish  beauty  of  face  and  form,  till 
now  she  was  more  than  pretty — she  was  magnifi- 
cently beautiful  in  all  the  full  splendor  of  a 
woman's  perfection  and  glory!  From  the  small 
arched  foot,  peeping  beneath  her  robe,  to  the 
crowning  mass  of  curly  hair  that  clustered  around 
her  brow — which  had  grown  several  shades 
darker  than  in  former  years,  but  which,  in  its 
contrast  with  her  pure  white  face,  only  added  to 
her  beauty — she  appeared  a  model  that  would 
have  pleased  the  most  fastidious  artist's  taste. 
Her  face  was  as  clear  and  white  as  marble  and  al- 
most of  as  fine  a  texture;  her  lips  were  finely 
moulded,  and  when  they  parted,  showed  perfect 
curves,  of  carmine's  brightest  hue;  her  chin  was 
dainty  and  dimpled;  the  cheeks  were  finely 
moulded,  with  a  shadowy  dimple  in  each,  while 
the  straight,  Grecian  nose,  with  its  delicate  red 
nostrils  would  have  served  for  a  sculptor's  model. 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      413 

The  large  liquid  eyes,  of  midnight's  dreamy  hue, 
magnificently  crowned  the  beauty  of  her  face, 
while  the  long,  drooping  lashes  that  fringed  the 
white  lids,  only  gave  a  deeper,  darker  and  more 
unfathomable  splendor  to  the  velvety  orbs!  But 
yet  there  was  a  magic  spell  about  her  face  that 
even  overshadowed  its  loveliness — that  was  its 
rare  sweetness ! 

But  as  he  turned  and  moved  toward  her  he 
noticed  a  sad  expression  on  her  sweet  young  face 
that  grieved  him  deeply.  She  did  not  notice  him 
till  he  stood  quite  close  to  her,  then  as  she  turned 
her  head  the  sad,  far-away  look  in  her  soft  dark 
eyes  gave  place  to  one  of  surprise. 

uAh,  my  lady,"  he  said  pleasantly,  "building 
castles  in  the  air?  Or,  as  the  French  say,  con- 
structing chateaux  des  Espagne?" 

"Oh,  no,"  she  replied  smiling,  "I  have  been 
painting  all  morning  and  came  out  in  the  open  air 
to  enjoy  my  Dolce  far  nienle.  But,"  she  added, 
naively,  "  I  fear  I  fell  into  thinking,  or,  perhaps, 
dreaming  of  the  past!" 

"Why  fear,"  he  asked. 

"Because,  though  pleasant  moments,  still  they 
haunt,  but  to  remind  that  they  did  not  last!" 

As  he  reached  her  side  she  arose  and  held  out 
her  hand,  as  her  heart  gave  a  wild  throb  of  ex- 
citement and  her  face  grew  even  paler.  As  he 
grasped  her  extended  hand  he  could  not  help 
noticing  how  lovely  her  face  looked  in  its  marble- 
like  paleness,  framed  by  the  soft  brown  curls. 
The  old  saucy  archness  was  gone,  but  there  was 
a  sad  sweetness  in  the  large  liquid  eyes  and  about 
the  small  mouth  and  dimpled  cheek  that  made  him 


414    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

long  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  caress  her.  He 
sat  down  beside  her  and  threw  his  hat  on  the 
bench  beside  her  with  a  boyish  carelessness,  as  she 
noticed  that  his  dark  hair  curled  in  ringlets  upon 
his  white  brow  just  as  she  had  loved  to  watch  it 
in  those  bygone  years.  There  was  a  tinge  of  sad- 
ness on  his  handsome  face  despite  his  sweet,  boy- 
ish flow  of  spirits,  showing  that  he,  too,  had  suf- 
fered. And  when  he  spoke  it  was  in  an  awkward, 
constrained  manner,  contrasting  strangely  with 
his  usual  open,  frank  way  and  his  customary  bril- 
liant and  natural  flow  of  language. 

After  a  moment's  silence  he  plunged  into  his 
subject  like  one  would  plunge  into  a  stream  where 
he  was  not  sure  of  his  footing,  or  as  one  would  do 
who  had  a  matter  in  hand  that  he  was  eager  to 
get  through  with,  and  seemed  at  a  loss  how  to 
begin. 

"Miss  Merton,"  he  commenced,  "I  wish  to  ask 
a  favor  of  you.  Will  you  grant  it?" 

"Certainly,"  she  replied,  noticing  his  embarrass- 
ment and  eager  to  help  him,  "if  it  lies  in  my 
power?" 

"I  love  a  certain  young  lady,  and  will  you  help 
me  win  her.  I  think  you  can  aid  me  materially." 

"Yes,  if  my  humble  efforts  can  assist  you,"  she 
replied,  dazed  and  bewildered,  while  a  fearful 
pain  seized  her  heart  that  made  her  struggle  for 
breath.  "Does  he  know?"  she  thought,  "what  he 
is  asking?  Can  he  imagine  the  pain  he  is  inflict- 
ing? Has  he  no  mercy.  Oh,  how  desperately  I 
love  him.  May  Heaven  help  me  to  bear  it !" 

Then,  after  a  desperate  effort  to  control  her 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      415 

feelings,  she  asked  in  a  voice  almost  choked  with 
tears: 

"Do  I  know  this  young  lady?  What  is  her 
name?" 

"It  is  Bertha  Merton!" 

Over  her  face  there  broke  a  light,  such  as  a 
Raphael,  or  a  Murillo,  often  dreamed  of  giving 
an  angel,  but  never  fully  succeeded  in  leaving  on 
canvas.  A  tranquil,  joyous  light  that  rendered 
her  face  grandly  beautiful.  He  saw  the  sweet 
light  of  joy  on  her  countenance  and  his  tongue 
became  suddenly  free  and  words  rushed  rapidly 
to  his  thoughts,  as  he  exclaimed : 

"Bertha,  darling,  will  you  forgive  me?  I  know 
I  don't  deserve  it!  But  still  I  love  you  dearly! 
You,  and  you  only,  have  held  the  tenderest  spot 
in  my  heart's  affection,  and  it  has  never  flagged 
even  for  a  moment  all  the  while  we  were  at  cross- 
purposes.  I  tried  to  forget  you,  but  the  more  I 
tried,  the  more  my  heart  clung  to  you !  Tor  the 
heart  that  has  truly  loved  never  forgets  but  as 
truly  loves  on  to  the  close.'  Will  you  forgive  me, 
Bertha?  And  I  promise  you  I'll  never  grow 
jealous  again.  Not  even  doubt  you  for  a  mo- 
ment." 

"Forgive  you,"  she  said  with  a  smile,  as  there 
came  over  her  a  feeling  that  set  her  nerves  quiver- 
ing with  a  strange  sweet  rapture.  "There  is  noth- 
ing to  forgive!  And  if  there  were  I  should  say 
in  the  words  of  good  Dr.  Granville,  'The  noblest 
lesson  I've  learned  in  life  is  to  forgive,  and,  as 
far  as  the  heart  can,  to  forget.'  But  it  would  be 
an  easy  task  for  me  to  forgive  you,  if  there  were 
anything  to  forgive,  for  my  heart  has  clung  to 


4i 6    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

you  tenderly  through  all  these  years  in  spite  of 
myself  And  you  know,"  she  added,  laughingly, 
"Leonidas,  the  bravest  of  the  Greeks,  was  com- 
pelled to  yield  when  the  enemy  gained  his  rear; 
and  so  with  my  own  heart  against  me,  and  your 
own  noble  appeal  what  else  can  a  poor  girl  do,  but 
surrender?  But,"  she  added,  with  the  old  sauci- 
ness,  "are  you  sure  you  love  me  truly?" 

For  her  answer  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and 
gently  kissed  her  rosy  lips  for  the  first  time  in 
many  a  long  day,  as  the  little  head  nestled  against 
his  shoulder,  while  the  hot  blood  suffused  her 
cheeks  and  bosom  till  they  rivaled  the  red  rose 
on  her  breast. 

"So,"  he  said,  "we  have  been  playing  at  cross 
purposes  all  these  years.  But  as  the  old  proverb 
says,  'As  gold  must  be  tried  by  fire,  so  hearts  must 
be  tried  by  pain,'  perhaps  it  was  Heaven's  way  of 
teaching  us  the  lesson  we  ought  to  have  learned 
before — the  lesson  of  faith  and  trust.  And  let  us 
hope  that  our  hearts,  in  the  crucible  of  pain,  have 
been  more  refined  and  purified.  But,"  he  added 
teasingly,  "I  was  not  entirely  without  hope  ever 
since  that  day  you  slyly  kissed  me  when  I  lay 
wounded  on  the  battle  field  of  Gettysburg  and  you 
thought  me  dying." 

"So  you  think  I  kissed  you  when  you  lay  so 
fearfully  wounded!"  she  exclaimed,  with  all  the 
old,  sweet  archness.  "Why,  what  an  absurd 
fancy!  Why,  the  very  idea  is  preposterous! 
What  a  conceited  fellow  you  are !  But  then,"  she 
added,  noticing  the  quizzical  expression  on  his 
countenance,  "you  were  so  badly  wounded  that 
your  mind  wandered  and  you  imagined  many  ridic- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      417 

ulous  things.  But  as  to  kissing  you,  it  is  the  most 
delightfully  unreasonable  fancy  in  the  world!  I 
can't  even  imagine  how  you  obtained  such  a  wild, 
absurd,  droll  and  ridiculous  idea  I  Why,  your 
mind  must  have  been  wandering  in  the  most  vis- 
ionary of  dream  lands!" 

"I  see,"  he  said,  laughingly,  "you  are  determ- 
ined to  deny  that  kiss.  But  the  thought  of  it  has 
been  sweet  to  me  ever  since,  though  perhaps  my 
mind  did  wander." 

"Of  course  it  did!  You  know  it  did!  What  a 
foolish,  inconsistent  idea  it  was!" 

As  she  finished  speaking  she  took  up  her  hat, 
with  its  long  white  feather,  and  placed  it  jauntily 
on  her  little  curly  head. 

"Ah,"  he  said,  banteringly,  "I  see  you've 
changed  the  scarlet  plume  for  a  white  one." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  with  the  old  sweet  arch- 
ness he  remembered  so  well,  "I've  had  a  taste  of 
war  and  learned  the  full  value  of  tranquility,  so 
"I've  changed  the  crimson  plume  of  battle  for  the 
virgin  white  of  peace!" 

"True,"  he  replied,  smiling,  "as  the  old  Roman 
proverb  says,  Dulce  bellum  inexperto — war  is 
sweet  to  him  who  has  not  tried  it.  And  I  have 
found  it  so,  for  my  experience  in  four  years  of 
strife  has  only  taught  me  to  hate  war  the  more, 
and  love  peace  the  better." 

"By  the  way,  Bertie,"  he  continued  after  a  mo- 
ment's silence,  "what  became  of  the  blue  mob  cap, 
with  gold  band,  you  wore  so  long  on  the  tented 
field?" 

"Oh,  my  foraging  cap,  as  you  used  to  call  it. 
I  lost  it,  I  think,  at  Gettysburg." 


4i 8     THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

"Yes,  I  think  you  did,"  he  said  roguishly,  as 
he  drew  the  cap  from  his  pocket. 

"Why,"  she  exclaimed,  "that's  the  identical 
foraging  cap !  The  officers  of  your  regiment 
presented  it  to  me  and  I  wore  it  in  their  honor. 
I  know  it  was  rather  gaudy.  But  then,"  she 
added  with  a  sly  glance  at  General  Landon, 
"where  men  wore  blue  uniforms  with  crimson 
sashes,  not  to  take  into  consideration  gilt  buttons 
and  gay  epaulettes — why  a  girl  was  justified  in 
being  a  little  bit  flashy,  too!" 

"Why  certainly  she  had,  providing "  and 

he  stopped. 

"Providing  what?"  she  asked  demurely. 

"Providing  she  didn't  kiss  wounded  soldiers." 

"I  tell  you,"  she  said  saucily,  with  a  stamp  of 
her  little  foot,  "your  mind  was  wandering  when 
you  imagined  such  an  absurd  thing!  Why,  the 
very  idea  is  perfectly  preposterous!" 

They  arose  from  the  rustic  bench,  and  arm  in 
arm,  strolled  up  the  path  along  the  river,  beneath 
the  shade  of  the  trees  and  trailing  vines.  As  they 
came  in  view  of  the  bridge  across  the  river  Bertha 
said: 

"They  have  built  a  new  bridge,  but  otherwise 
the  place  is  little  changed.  The  old  oak  is  still 
standing,  throwing  its  shade  as  in  years  gone  by." 

"Yes,"  he  said  teasingly,  "they  have  built  a 
new  one  to  prevent  young  ladies  on  horseback 
from  falling  into  the  river." 

"It  may  be,"  she  said  demurely,  "but  I  don't 
think  they  need  to  have  troubled  themselves  about 
that.  For  most  young  ladies  are  capable  of  tak- 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      419 

ing  care  of  themselves — at  least,"  she  added  slyly, 
"I  know  of  one." 

When  they  reached  the  bridge  they  walked 
partly  across  it  till  they  reached  the  shade  of  the 
old  oak,  and  then,  leaning  upon  the  railing,  stood 
side  by  side  gazing  into  the  stream  for  several 
moments  in  silence,  watching  the  shining  trout 
dart  about  in  the  clear  waters  of  the  river,  when 
suddenly  Bertha  looked  up  and  repeated  archly 
the  poet's  familiar  lines: 

"I  see  the  bright  trout  springing, 

Where  the  wave  is  dark  yet  clear, 
And  a  myriad  flies  are  winging, 
As  if  to  tempt  him  near." 

"Finish  the  stanza,  my  little  lady,"  he  said 
sportively. 

"I  don't  remember  the  rest,"  she  answered, 
smiling. 

"Then  I'll  repeat  it  for  you,"  he  said  good- 
humor  edly: 

"With  the  lucid  waters  blending, 

The  willow  shade  yet  floats, 
From  beneath  whose  quiet  bendings 
I  used  to  launch  my  boats." 

They  crossed  the  bridge  and  almost  instinct- 
ively turned  their  steps  toward  Bertha's  old  home. 
As  they  walked  up  the  hill  together  on  that  beau- 
tiful summer  afternoon,  with  their  hearts  beating 
wildly  happy,  there  arose  a  flood  of  memories 
almost  too  deep  for  words.  Memories  sweet  of 
those  happy  bygone  days  that  they  had  passed  to- 
gether in  the  little  village ;  days  that  ever  seemed 


420    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

bathed  in  radiant  sunshine,  that  each  familiar 
spot  and  hill  in  St.  Arlyle  brought  vividly  back  to 
their  mental  view;  blissful  years,  when  she  took 
her  first  lessons  in  science  and  he  learned  his  first 
in  love !  Peaceful  years,  but  to  be  succeeded  by 
those  sad,  thrilling  years  of  war,  out  of  which 
arose,  as  if  by  magic,  the  well  remembered  faces 
and  forms  of  those  who  ere  sleeping  under  the 
sod  on  the  battle  fields  of  the  sunny  South.  Sad 
and  thrilling  scenes  that  touched  their  very  hearts' 
core,  till  the  walls  of  their  memories  seemed  so 
written  over — so  crossed  and  recrossed  by  the 
events  of  the  years  that  had  fled,  that  there  seemed 
no  room  for  the  thoughts  of  the  present. 

When  they  reached  the  brow  of  the  hill  they 
met  Colonel  Tom  Gleaton,  and  as  he  extended  a 
hand  to  each  he  said,  in  his  old,  impulsive  way: 

"Ah,  the  Heracleids  have  returned  at  last!" 

"Yes,"  replied  Bertha  smiling,  "but  it  has  not 
taken  us  quite  three  generations  to  do  it,  as  it  did 
the  Greeks  of  old." 

"True,"  said  Gleaton,  "the  fates  were  pro- 
pitious this  time.  And,"  he  added,  with  a  sly 
glance  at  each,  "I  think  no  plague  will  follow." 

"Why,"  said  Landon,  "have  you  consulted  the 
Oracle  of  Delphi?" 

"No,"  he  said  quickly,  and  with  an  artfulness 
that  caused  the  warm  blood  to  suffuse  both  their 
faces,  "I've  consulted  the  Oracle  of  Cupid!" 

"By  the  way,"  said  Bertha,  addressing  Colonel 
Gleaton,  and  demurely  and  dexterously  changing 
the  subject,  "I  understand  you  have  entered  the 
field  of  journalism?  How  do  you  like  it?" 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      421 

"Very  well  indeed!  It  gives  me  a  chance  to 
perpetrate  a  would-be-joke  in  print." 

"They  are  more  than  would-be  jokes,"  said 
Landon.  "You  have  written  some  good  things." 

"I  hope  so,"  he  replied: 

"  'For  a  little  fun  now  and  then, 
Is  relished  by  the  best  of  men/" 

As  Gleaton  finished  speaking  he  turned  around, 
and  as  they  strolled  along  their  conversation  nat- 
urally turned  to  the  missing  links  in  the  village's 
little  commonwealth — those  who  had  fallen  in  the 
Civil  War — as  Colonel  Gleaton  said: 

"You  remember  poor  Tom  Kelly's  death  and 
burial  near  the  banks  of  the  Potomac  River? 
Well,  not  long  since,  we  had  his  last  resting  place 
marked  by  a  stone  with  the  proper  inscriptions 
cut  on  it.  As  you  undoubtedly  recall,  he  was  the 
first  of  our  St.  Arlyle  men  to  fall  in  battle." 

"Yes,"  said  General  Landon,  "he  was  a  wild, 
erratic  fellow,  but  he  fully  deserves  all  the  tributes 
we  can  give  him,  for  he  had  a  warm  Irish  heart, 
and  he  fell  bravely  in  the  defense  of  his  country 
at  duty's  post." 

"True,"  said  Bertha,  "he  had  his  faults;  but 
who  has  not?  But,  poor  fellow,  he  was  always 
a  firm  and  true  friend  to  me!  And,"  she  added 
warmly,  "I  shall  ever  hold  a  tender  place  in  my 
heart  for  his  memory!" 

"Yes,"  said  General  Landon,  "as  we  look  back 
to  the  old  days  of  the  war  and  recall  its  martyrs, 
Jeremiah  Marshall,  noble  Dr.  Granville,  and 
sweet  May  Wilberton,  his  is  ever  among  the  fa- 


422    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

miliar  faces  that  arise  IIKC  an  apparition  through 
the  haze  of  history  that  is  beginning  to  gather 
around  the  men  and  events  of  that  troublous 
time!" 

"True,"  said  Bertha,  uat  the  mention  of  their 
names,  their  well-known  faces  seemed  to  beam 
upon  us  as  they  used  to  do  in  life.  But  let  us 
think,"  she  added  tenderly,  "that  they  are  all  at 
rest  in  God's  kingdom  beyond  the  skies;  that  er- 
ratic Tom  Kelly  has  been  called  from  the  post  of 
duty  to  ranks  of  peace  in  Heaven;  that  Jeremiah 
Marshall  has  found — after  his  sad  and  troublous 
life — the  everlasting  rest  he  longed  so  often  to 
find;  and  that  noble,  generous  Dr.  Granville  has 
found  the  reward  he  so  truly  deserved;  and  that 
sweet,  gentle  May,  too,  is  waiting  among  the 
blest!" 

uBut  there  is  one  name,"  said  General  Landon, 
"of  those  old  days,  that  of  James  Shackle,  I'm 
afraid  I  never  can  recall  without  an  anathema. 
For  Bertha,"  he  continued,  "he  came  too  near 
ruining  your  life  and  mine  for  me  ever  to  easily 
forgive  him!" 

In  Bertha's  large  liquid  eyes  there  came  a  sweet 
forgiving  tenderness  as  she  said:  "Let  us  not 
condemn  him  too  harshly,  for  perhaps  the  great 
troubles  and  trials  he  had  passed  through  had 
overbalanced  his  mind,  and  he  was  not  really  ac- 
countable for  his  later  acts.  Anyhow,"  she  added, 
"we  in  our  great  happiness  can  easily  afford  to 
forgive  him!" 

"Ah,  Bertha,"  said  Charles,  smiling,  "spoken 
like  your  own  true,  noble  self — ever  forgiving 
and  forgetting!" 


THROUGH  WAR  TO  PEACE      423 

When  they  reached  the  garden  gate  of  Bertha's 
old  home  the  star-spangled  banner  was  floating 
from  the  tall  flag-pole  in  front  of  it;  for  it  was 
the  Nation's  birthday.  And  as  they  watched  the 
gentle  breeze  waft  out  in  the  balmy  sunlight,  the 
gay  folds  of  the  bonny  red,  white  and  blue,  Ber- 
tha said: 

"The  old  flag  floats  as  proudly  as  if  it  had 
never  been  riddled  by  shot  and  shell  in  internal 
strife." 

"Yes,"  said  Gleaton,  in  his  facetious  way,  "I 
never  see  the  old  flag,  but  it  reminds  me  of  bullets 
and  balls  coming  in  my  direction." 

"Or,"  said  Bertha,  mischieviously,  "riding  off 
the  battlefield  on  a  cannon." 

"Perhaps,"  he  said,  smiling  good-humoredly, 
though  the  joke  was  at  his  expense,  "but  I  hope," 
he  added,  "those  days  are  over  forever." 

"God  grant  that  they  are,"  said  Charles  Lan- 
don  earnestly,  "and  that  unlike  the  nations  that 
have  gone  before,  suicide  may  never  be  the  fate 
of  the  American  Republic!" 

And  kind  reader,  let  us,  too,  hope  that  if  war 
comes  in  this  passing  generation  it  will  find  the 
Blue  and  the  Gray  in  the  same  line  of  battle,  fight- 
ing side  by  side  a  common  foe ! 

As  Landon  finished  speaking  Gleaton  turned 
down  the  hill,  while  Charles  and  Bertha  entered 
the  gate  hand  in  hand,  and  in  the  waning  light  of 
that  glorious  summer  afternoon,  strolled  along 
a  familiar  rose-bordered  path,  and  there,  gentle 
reader — whilst  his  arm  is  encircling  her  dainty 
waist,  and  her  dark,  golden  head  is  nestling  on  his 
shoulder — we  leave  them,  under  the  sway  of  the 


424    THE  VILLAGE  MYSTERY,  AND 

greatest  magic  wand  of  all— the  transforming 
light  of  love!  So  their  hearts,  like  their  country's 
flag,  had  passed  through  War  to  Peace! 


THE  END. 


OUR    NEWEST    ISSUES 


By  Wilbert  C.  Blakeman. 
The  Black  Hand  ...........................   1.50 


By  John  W.  Bennett. 
Roosevelt  and  the  Republic i.5f 


By  Hon.  Joseph  M.  Brown. 

(Governor  of  Georgia.) 
Astyanax — An  Epic  Romance 1.50 


By  John  Tracy  Mygatt. 
What  I  Do  Not  Know  of  Farming 75 


By  Esmee  Walton. 
Aurora  of  Poverty  Hill 1.50 


By  Josephine  Merwin  Cook. 
Bandana  Days 75 


By  Howard  James. 
The  Wraith  of  Knopf  and  Other  Stories z.OQ 


By  George  Fuller  Golden. 
My  Lady  Vaudeville  and  Her  White  Rats. . . ,  2.00 


By  J.  A.  Salmon- Maclean. 

Leisure  Moments i.oo 

A  Stricken  City \     to 


OUR    NEWEST    ISSUES 

!r^i  (y<^P  "O^fo  ty$$  3wC°  ^wC^  yolfo  cMPfo  o$cfoyoX'o3/2.I\o  °}OT^O^>?/O 

By  James  A.  Ritchey,  Ph.D. 
Psychology  of  the  Will $1.50 


By  Charles  Hallock,  M.  A. 
Peerless  Alaska  .  x.oa 


By  Dwight  Edwards  Marvin. 

Prof.  Slagg  of  London 1.50 

The  Christman   1.50 


By  Caroline  Mays  Brevard. 
Literature  of  the  South 1.50 


By  Susan  Archer  Weiss. 
Home  Life  of  Poe  (sd  ed.) 1.50 


By  Irving  Wilson  Voorhees,  M.D. 
Teachings  of  Thomas  Henry  Huxley  (2d  ed.) .   I.OQ 


By  Mrs.  Annie  Riley  Hale. 
Rooseveltian  Fact  and  Fable l.oo 


By  Hon.  D.  W.  Higgins. 
The  Mystic  Spring 


By  Edith  Nicholl  Ellison. 
The   Burnt-Offering 


OUR    NEWEST    ISSUES 


By  Alexandra  Erixon. 
The  Vale  of  Shadows 1.50 


By  Mrs.  Josephine  M.  Clarke. 
The  King  Squirrel  of  Central  Park  (Juvenile) .     .60 


By  William  N.  Freeman. 
St.  Mammon 1.50 


By  Mrs.  I.  Lowenberg. 
The   Irresistible   Current 1.50 


By  M.  Y.  T.  H.  Myth. 

Tales  of  Enchantment i.oo 

A  Tale  Confided  by  the  Woods 75 


By  Ida  Blanche  Wall. 
Comedy  of  Petty  Conflicts 1.25 


By  Elizabeth  Helene  Freston. 

Poems  (portrait)  beautifully  bound i.oo 

Italians  Fornarina  (leather) 3.00 


Compiled  by  Darwin  W.  Esmond. 
Poetry  of  Childhood,  by  Paul  Warner  Esmond 
(Memorial  Edition)  


BOOK  ON 
rN0R 
OVERDUE. 


APR    18  1933 
V   191934 


THE  FOURTH 


LD  21-50m-l,'33 


No: 


207578 


